The Stone Flower
by vanhunks
Summary: CHAPTER 7 and 8 [COMPLETED] now added! Based loosely on the Russian fairytale, transcribed for ballet by Prokofiev. Shortly after their return to the Alpha Quadrant, Chakotay disappears mysteriously and he is declared missing in action, presumed dead. Then an old woman crosses Kathryn's path and tells her something.
1. Chapter 1

**The Stone Flower**

a fairytale

**by**

**vanhunks**

**Author's note:**

Sometime in October of 2003 I was listening to my favourite classical radio station and the presenter mentioned the ballet "The Stone Flower" by Prokofiev in passing, while preparing to play something from a Delibes ballet. I was instantly intrigued by the title for I've never heard of a ballet or story by that name. The title alone suggested something aloof and beautiful. A routine online search led me to discover that Prokofiev wrote the ballet based on a Russian fairytale, "The Stone Flower". Interested as I was reading the story I thought I could put Kathryn and Chakotay in it if I wrote one based loosely on the original fairytale. So "The Stone Flower" was born.

My story is written as a fairytale, and I ask readers to expect some magic in the story, or things happening for which there are no logical explanations.

Disclaimer: Voyager, Kathryn and Chakotay are the property of Paramount/Viacom. No copyright infringement is intended.

Rating: PG-13

**Acknowledgements:**

**Gilly Hoyle. **I only gave the specifications and Gilly did the artwork for the beautiful stone flowers.

**Mary Stark.** I asked, and Mary said "sure, I'll work on it". Thank you for clearing space on your desk to take up this project. I worked through all her nitpicks and mostly nodded in agreement. At other times I wanted to hide under the desk, come up seconds later for air and do the correction.

**Sheila. **My muse, my friend. Thank you.

**SUMMARY:** Shortly after their return to the Alpha Quadrant, Chakotay disappears mysteriously and he is declared missing in action, presumed dead. Then an old woman crosses Kathryn's path and tells her something.

**THE STONE FLOWER**

**PROLOGUE**

Admiral Hays admired Kathryn Janeway. He had never formed particular attachments to any person, and the friends he had were men and women who had been his colleagues for decades. Although slow to make a deep friendship, but when he did, a friend could be assured of his trust and loyalty.

Because he had become fond of her, he knew that the news he had just given her must have been a shattering blow, yet she stood in front of him ( an admiral like himself ) and only the merest flicker of emotion in her eyes revealed how deeply she felt.

"I am so sorry, Kathryn. You knew that it would come to this, didn't you?"

Kathryn Janeway shook her head and squared her shoulders imperceptibly. It was this severe coolness, the little twitch of her lower lip, the supreme effort of receiving his news with too much dignity, which told him more about her warring emotions than she let on.

"It's officially two years, Admiral Hays. I expected an announcement sooner rather than later. It's ironic, isn't it? We were lost in the Delta Quadrant for seven years and there were times many had given up hope that we'd still be alive. Now...this..."

"We've searched everywhere - "

"I know. At this point, I still hope that he's alive and that someday he'll return..."

"Kathryn..." Hays stepped closer and gripped her shoulders. "The Federation is simply following procedure. You need closure. If you don't, you'll keep on hoping. I need my ablest colleague on my team, you know."

Kathryn Janeway closed her eyes briefly, then fixed her gaze on him again. To Hays, she looked lost for a moment, the shadows playing in her expressive eyes.

"Thank you, Admiral Hays. Chakotay is listed as missing in action and considered dead. Only months after our return home...to be lost somewhere again..." She gave a deep sigh, and for the first time since she had entered his office, he saw her reserve slip when a tear rolled down her cheek.

"I am so sorry, Kathryn."

"He's dead. My husband is dead. I have to accept that, yet I can't stop hoping."

**CHAPTER 1**

"I thought your sister Phoebe might accompany you tonight, Admiral," Magnus Rollins said. He was greying at the temples and looked distinguished in his dress uniform. His smile was warm, but Kathryn found the concern that flashed briefly over his features a contrast to his welcoming smile.

"Phoebe declined this year, Magnus. She's in Paris, working on a commissioned painting for the President of the Federation."

"A very important project, then."

"I don't mind. In any case, the new generation of Voyager children are growing up so fast and multiplying prodigiously. Everyone is eager to introduce their latest offspring to me!"

Magnus laughed. He was alone too and somehow, his presence gave her a little boost. The anniversary celebrations always left her a little gloomy. Everyone gathered to celebrate, glad to be back as a Voyager group again.

The first year there had been a little sombreness, an air of grief that hung in the air when she had read out the names of the crew who had died, who had served her during those seven long years with such great distinction and valour. She had not wanted to include Chakotay's name among that list then, clinging tenaciously to the hope that he'd return home soon. Lost, missing without a trace... It was difficult to understand just how an officer of Starfleet could go missing, his ship returning to Federation space without its captain.

She knew that some were aware of the new status of Chakotay's disappearance. Magnus knew. On her recommendation he had been promoted to command his own vessel and had been informed by her when he enquired about a search. The search had been called off finally, after a little more than two years. Always a grave man, Rollins's understanding nod had helped lift her spirits that day. When he turned to look at her again, she wondered if her own sadness touched him, too. His wife had died in the year before they returned and his son James had been raised by his grandmother.

"Admiral - "

"Oh, Magnus, you can call me Kathryn. Let's not be too formal, shall we?"

Magnus smiled again. His smile reminded her of Chakotay. For a moment, searing pain shot through her; she had to resist a great urge to raise her hand and clutch wildly at her breast, to give vent to a crying rage .

"Kathryn, then. Look, nothing is written in stone, you know. Being listed missing in action and presumed dead means just that: presumed dead. For all we know he - "

"- may be alive somewhere... It's a hopeless thought, Magnus. I've tried to close myself off from hoping. What's left is a very cold reality. It's been three years - "

"You know they gave us up for dead, Kathryn, after two years. Yet many believed we were alive somewhere."

She nodded. It was the very thing she had told Admiral Hays. The irony of it. It was a statement from Magnus that she had expected - something, anything that would corroborate her own flaring hope.

"I - " she started, then paused as she saw Tom Paris break away from his group at the far side of the hall. "It's been a difficult three years, Magnus. Something of what our own families went through waiting for us... I understand so much of it now. Chakotay and I... In the beginning, we - " She swallowed, the understanding look in his eyes encouraging her to open up. "You know our marriage was not a normal one..." she admitted to him, feeling relieved when the words came out.

"Maybe not at first, on Voyager."

She cast him a surprised glance, then frowned. Magnus touched her arm lightly, his eyes somber, yet knowing.

"Most senior crew knew, and others suspected," he said quietly. "You were too busy playing a part, if you'll forgive my saying it. I don't think anyone had any doubt why you married. Paris called it 'a useful charade'."

"Useful..."

"But you loved Chakotay. In the end it worked out. We were all glad it did. You belonged together..."

_Belonged together... _

A painful constriction of her heart again. A month before their return Chakotay had approached her to ask her to marry him. Even now, thinking about her reaction and his hidden agenda, she cringed. She had wanted to laugh at the way they seemed to face off in her quarters. He had looked thunderous, ready to strike at her. She stood, hands on her hips, ready to strike back.

"Marry me."

"Why, Chakotay?" she had asked. _Why now_? she always wondered.

"I love you, Kathryn." His reply had been short, an indication that he knew what he wanted to say. It was too pat, too emotionless, too well prepared. He had harboured feelings towards her, of that she had always been aware, but from the way the words had spurted from his mouth, she was certain it was premeditated. He had an agenda.

"Why, Chakotay?" she had asked again.

He had dropped his gaze, and if he weren't so tanned, she was certain that he was blushing.

"Seven of Nine - "

"Ah, Seven..." she repeated, her heart sinking.

"She has convinced herself that she is in love with me, Kathryn. I - "

"So marrying me would get her off your back?"

"Dammit, Kathryn!"

"Wouldn't any other unattached female on board have done?" Her words were laced with sarcasm and bitterness. Chakotay bit his lower lip as he tried to contain his anger.

"We're friends. I was hoping that - "

"I could help a friend in need? You say you love me, Chakotay, and in the same breath you want me to marry you to _protect_ you from someone else?"

"Look, forget it, will you? I'll leave you alone. Seven is expecting me to propose to her within days. I didn't know what else to do..."

_Apart from telling Seven the truth... Or hurt her fragile, newly acquired humanity and sensibility. _

He looked so dejected when he turned to leave that she felt sorry for him. Why had her resolve to turn down his proposal weakened at that point? What did he know of her own feelings? He didn't have to know. She was instantly worried about him and while she admired Seven of Nine, she thought that Chakotay's need to steer clear of the Borg meant that he knew he would never be happy with her and that he found her attentions unbearable. It was that knowledge, an admission he unwittingly made, that had softened her resolve.

"Wait..."

He had frozen in his tracks, then turned slowly to look at her with worried eyes.

"Kathryn...?"

"You love me, you said."

He had taken a few hesitant steps closer to her.

"I cannot deny what I've felt for too long," he had replied. "You?"

In her mind's eye she had seen Seven of Nine looking at Chakotay. In matters of the heart Annika Hansen had not yet developed a veneer of sophistication. Her artlessness lay open for anyone to see, for anyone to exploit... The way she looked at Chakotay... It was an unadulterated hunger, a worship that was too close to childish or teenage crushes to be anything with depth and understanding of a warrior's heart. Yet it stung. Kathryn remembered with an ache deep inside her how the knowledge, that he could return the Borg's feelings suddenly and inexplicably, hurt so much that she could die of the pain.

"I love you." She knew her voice had sounded hoarse, an edge of defeat to it. "Think I could make you happy?"

If she didn't know him so well, she would have mistaken his look for one of perplexity, an inability to comprehend the question as wholly unnecessary. But Chakotay had known the true depth and meaning of her words. She had as good as told him that Seven of Nine could never make him happy.

"Look, Kathryn. If you feel you need time, we can wait..."

His words had hung in the air. They had been friends so long. They had often touched, even shared a flirtatious kiss at times, but there had never been the kind of intimacy that marriage suggested. Many times she had fantasised about him, dreamed of being with him and thinking how making love with him would settle the peace in her heart once and for all. She had sublimated those fantasies into a structured existence, where she paid homage to a Federation that was light-years away. It worked well, the tacit arrangement where Chakotay could remain her friend, where a light kiss or her hand caressing his cheek meant she cared about her first officer as an officer and gentleman. Suddenly she had felt - and he must have sensed it - a certain shyness, knowing that his proposal had come too suddenly and with too much baggage to plunge directly into sharing a bed.

She had nodded wordlessly. They would marry, but they would wait.

Seven of Nine had taken the news and adapted, even though at times Kathryn felt a great concern for the former Borg. She bore the disappointment well. Only once during an uncomfortable moment in which Kathryn accidentally stumbled upon Seven of Nine in a conversation with Chakotay, did Kathryn doubt the wisdom of what she and Chakotay had done. She had not questioned Chakotay about it and later he had told her that Seven of Nine was slowly coming to accept that he married Kathryn for love, that there was no turning back for him.

And so they joined their quarters, kept to their beds and she continued to love him as she knew that he must have loved her. They were together; the deep yearning to be a part of something miraculous was finally realised. She had rejoiced silently that she belonged to him, even if they hadn't consummated their union.

That had come the night before they entered Earth's orbit...

"Admiral?"

Kathryn blinked a few times as she became aware again of the bright light of the hall, of two concerned faces staring at her. Her thoughts were straying to her missing husband far too much these days.

"I - do forgive me, Tom, Magnus. It was just..."

"We understand, Admiral," Tom said. "We miss the big guy tonight..."

"As do I," she responded, smiling. "But now I order you to celebrate. Don't look so glum on my account."

Magnus bowed with a flourish.

"In that case would you care to dance then, Kathryn?"

"Wait!" said Tom. "Before you go off with Captain Rollins here, I've a message from my daughter. Says to tell her Aunt Kathryn to get a nice present when she goes to Surra next month."

Kathryn laughed, relieved that she was on even keel again.

"You tell her she's too young to make demands on an aunt. But I'll see what I can do."

"I hear you're on Rollin's ship then, Admiral."

"I am. Official diplomatic mission."

"I'll be in the Badlands. Good luck if we don't meet before then, Admiral."

"I'll probably need it. We're to negotiate an application from the Surran System to join the Federation."

"High powered stuff, I'd say."

Before she could respond to Tom, Magnus had whisked her to the middle of the floor.

"I remember when you were a little girl, Kathryn, that you could never stand still for two minutes together. You were always rushing about on your short little legs at warp speed." Gretchen Janeway shook her head as she surveyed Kathryn's room. PADDs were strewn about and contending haphazardly with items of clothing and her dress uniform. "I also seem to remember that you were far more organised than...this..."

Kathryn drew her attention away from a PADD that she held up, inspected briefly then placed carefully in a small box before dropping it in the duffel. She looked at her mother. Gretchen noticed the heightened colour in her cheeks, the way Kathryn's eyes were alive. It was such a contrast to the constant shadows that had lurked in them almost since they returned home. She gave a little sigh as Kathryn straightened up and walked to where Gretchen had been standing in the doorway.

"Mother, I'm going to be away for six months - "

"I know, honey. You seem driven suddenly, as if...as if..."

"As if what?"

"You think he may still be alive, Kathryn. Sweetheart, the Federation declared him dead a year ago."

"There's no corpse, no trace of a molecule that carries his DNA, nothing, Mother. I can still hope, can't I?"

"You're wanting to use this mission to launch a search for Chakotay?"

Gretchen wanted to kick herself for not realising instantly what lay behind Kathryn's sudden resurgence to life. Her daughter had taken her grief and packaged it neatly where those who knew that she was married and that her husband was dead, couldn't get a glimpse. In some quarters they called her heartless, an unfeeling Admiral who was too Starfleet to let a simple thing like the disappearance and subsequent death of her husband ruffle her neat appearance and fortitude. To her, Kathryn herself 'died' as she became more and more insulated. Chakotay had been the best thing that ever happened to her daughter, a miracle, she'd thought. She had liked the quiet man instantly and blessed him that he could make her daughter laugh again, be alive.

Kathryn jerked back and faced her again. "Mother, if I don't keep hoping... I can't give up." Kathryn's eyes became deeply clouded as she traveled for a moment to a place where she and Chakotay had existed alone, and were happy. "I can't give up, Mother..." Kathryn repeated her words in a pained whisper.

"I know, honey." Gretchen hugged her daughter spontaneously and when she stood back again, she smiled. "Now, is there anything I can do to help?"

"Well, I can do my own packing - "

"Oh, Kathryn! Do come home safely. I hope the negotiations will be successful on Surra. You know what you always do for me where you're away..."

"Right. A little souvenir for Gretchen Janeway."

"You go well, my daughter," she said. When Gretchen left to return to the lounge, a distinguished looking gentleman waited there for her on the couch.

"Well?" Adam Ponsonby asked as he looked up and held his hand out to her. When she was seated next to him, she cuddled closer, closing her eyes as a great sadness came over her.

"She's hurting, Adam. It's the knowledge that there was no word, not a body to bury and grieve. It's killing her..."

"And Kathryn is going to search for him," Adam stated.

"It's a last ditch effort to find him, Adam. A desperate attempt to succeed where the Federation failed - "

"We've done everything. You know that, my love."

"Yes...yes, I know. Kathryn understands fully. It's just that she is faced with losing a loved one in the same way we thought of them when Voyager was lost in the Delta Quadrant. They went into deep mourning when they knew that it would take them more than seventy years to get home..."

"If Chakotay is alive somewhere..."

Gretchen hugged Adam tighter to her.

"Then I hope to God that Kathryn will find him..." she whispered.

"Enter," Kathryn said softly when the door to the admiral's suite of the USS Pearston chimed. Seconds later, Magnus Rollins entered.

"Are you settling in, Kathryn?" he asked.

"You have a classy ship, Magnus," she responded.

"I have you to thank for my commission."

"You earned it, don't worry. How's James doing?"

"Pulling too many all-nighters studying for finals. He's keen on command track."

"I'm not surprised. James is in the top three of his class, and a real leader. You must be proud."

"I am," Magnus said, his face breaking into a broad smile, the pride in his eyes clear. "I am just glad that we're home to see our children grow up and to see them achieve, be there at last for them..."

"I'm glad I could bring most of my crew home, Magnus. It's a good feeling, being there for your children..."

The image of a lonely ship in a lonely black expanse was brief before Magnus broke the short silence.

"Well, Admiral, I've come to invite to you dinner in the Captain's private dining room."

A sudden vision of Neelix in apron and chef's hat on Voyager in what had been the ship's private dining room filled Kathryn with nostalgia.

"Thank you, Magnus. I'd like that. The other members of the delegation...will they be present too?"

"Only Admiral Ordan."

"I'll live."

"He's a dour man, mostly. But don't quote me," Magnus said, smiling. "I'll see you tonight then."

"Magnus..." she started as he was about to leave.

"Yes?"

"After the talks, I'll be staying on Surra for a while. I need time..."

Magnus frowned.

"But surely - "

"Don't worry," she assured him. "I've put in for additional leave."

"How long?"

"Four months."

"What?"

"I've already cleared with Headquarters the period of absence. It's been granted me, if you must know. I'll be borrowing one of the Pearston's type 11 shuttles - "

"That's my fastest and biggest shuttle. I guess I can't persuade you to reconsider?"

"No."

"Or tell you it's folly, perhaps?"

"No."

"I'll see you tonight then, Kathryn."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Not insisting on explanations."

"You're the best Captain I've had the honour to serve. I trusted you then. I trust you now."

"You're a good man, Rollins. One of the best. I'll bring your shuttle back in one piece."

Magnus burst out laughing, then the laugh died as suddenly as it was born. He was pensive for a moment and Kathryn knew he was thinking of the many times she had told Chakotay to bring her shuttles to the bay in one piece.

When he left, Kathryn stood a long time staring at the doors of her suite. With a sigh she turned to her bedroom and removed a few PADDs from her duffel. Her fingers trembled slightly as she keyed in a code on one PADD. She read Chakotay's last message to her. She remembered that morning when she had woken up to find that he had left already, and the first thing she saw on his bedstand was the note from him. Like she had done perhaps a thousand times in the last three years, and without actually seeing the text in front of her, she read the letter. She knew the words by heart, words that filled her with a strange comfort, words that made her imagine that he was still alive somewhere because they were words of hope.

_My dearest Kathryn _

_You were sleeping so soundly, I just couldn't wake you up. You looked so beautiful and peaceful, it would have been a shame to ruin the picture. Besides, last night was wonderful and a more fulfilling farewell I couldn't have had. _

_Just thinking of you every day will fill my own hours while I am away. I am still dazed, I guess, that my happiness could be so complete, even though we didn't start our marriage on a good footing. I am alive and humbled by the power of your love for me. You're generous, warm and caring, and it makes me feel good that when you look at me, I am your world. _

_I will be away, yet I am convinced in my heart that now, my love will be strengthened; I have never been more alive than I am now, even while I am in deep space. Whatever happens, sweet Kathryn, please know that even in our adversity, you will always be there, always be the most important reason I need to get home to you. I see your face in sleep and the deepest emotion swells in me and brims over into a touch, a kiss, a whisper of love. _

_Always, it will be your face, your unsurpassed beauty that, in me, will find expression in an equal magnificence as I draw your image upon my heart. _

_All my love, _

_Chakotay. _

With a sigh, Kathryn pressed her lips to the PADD when she finished reading the letter. For A long time she sat on the bed, staring at the viewport, her thoughts drifting to far and familiar places where they had been so happy. Chakotay's words filled her with warmth, reassured her once again that he must be alive somewhere, thinking of her and that she kept him alive wherever he was.

Now more than ever, she believed that somewhere, Chakotay was waiting for her.

The planet of Surra was a little bigger than Earth and the Surrans a people of gentle nature. She had prepared her preliminary studies well and on the delegation's recommendation, Surra would become a member of the United Federation of Planets.

With an M-class atmosphere and only three continents, Surra maintained very high temperatures throughout its twenty eight hour days and three hundred and eighty nine day year. With only two extensive mountain ranges that spanned the left corridor between two continents, most of the rest of Surra was flat, with many salt pans and depressions, dotted here and there with small plateaus that formed the major feature of its geomorphology. The First City of Surra was situated on the southern continent, and it rose in hundreds of modern structures with its air traffic a feature of the city. It nestled in a horseshoe river bend, the planet's oldest and longest river, widest at the section where the First City stood.

Kathryn had been surprised, and had seen surprise catch her colleagues as well, by the sprawling gardens that surrounded the city and the landscaping at the centre of the city. It was the biggest plaza she had ever seen. Filled everywhere with trees and tall shrubs and bushes that were all in flower, the splashes of colour caught their eyes. Kathryn had grinned when she looked at Admiral Ordan, who normally wasn't happy with anything. Ordan's eyes were appreciative. He was Bajoran, one of the first Bajoran admirals in Starfleet and she sensed that he too, like she herself, felt the calm of the place infuse them. Admirals Gordon, Hammerschlach and Eriodort, a Bolian, all smiled and gave nods of appreciation as they cruised in their runabout, barely metres above the tallest buildings and trees.

At one end of the 'town square', as she thought of it, they alighted from the runabout.

"Greetings, Admirals. I am Lenina Benar," said a young looking woman who stood there with her hands clasped together. Her garment was long, touching her ankles. Resembling the Romulans, the woman's hair was pitch black and her ears were pointed. Flaring eyebrows, that started between the eyes and rose dramatically as sharp points near the side of her forehead, completed the picture. She was striking.

Admiral Gordon nodded absently to the young ensign who piloted the shuttle to return to the USS Pearston.

"Greetings, Lenina," Kathryn said, while the rest of the delegation also either nodded or greeted.

"The Senior Council thought it would be wise to walk with you to the Conference Hall..."

"A good idea," Admiral Gordon said as they started walking. "The view of the plaza is excellent."

"I agree," replied Kathryn. Lenina Benar walked out ahead of them and from time to time she turned round and pointed to something of interest.

The place was even more beautiful as they walked along tree-lined lanes and pathways to the Conference Hall, where they were to meet the First Minister as well as other dignitaries whose application they would hear. The rest of the way they were quiet, soaking in the beauty of the city, a striking contrast to the dry regions of the rest of the continents. The river was a natural water supply and probably had an underground source since there were no mountain ranges on the continent. It was also the reason for the verdant growth and proliferation of flowers.

They walked slowly until they reached an intersection where Lenina paused briefly before she proceeded forward again. Just at that moment, Kathryn felt a hand on her arm and she looked back to see a small, very old woman. Her hair was silver, and her face creased from age, but her eyes were alive. Kathryn stopped. The others had already crossed the intersection as Kathryn looked to them first, then back at the tiny Surran woman.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Kathryn asked courteously. The woman's eyes darted, then fixed on her again. Kathryn frowned. "I am sure I don't know you..."

The hand dropped away from her arm. The woman raised her hand slowly to Kathryn's face. She stopped breathing for a moment as the woman, her eyes on Kathryn in some breathless wonder, touched her cheek with long, quivering fingers. The touch was so light, it felt as if a feather just barely whisked past her. 'Who was this woman?' she thought. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the others already on the other side of the intersection.

"Who are you?" Kathryn asked the old woman.

A tear rolled down the woman's weathered cheek and her lips trembled as the words spilled from her:

_"You will not have to walk alone _

_when once you see the flower of stone..." _

The next instant, the woman was gone.

TBC Ch. 2

Now up to chapter 5.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The talks dragged on throughout the day. Kathryn listened to Admiral Ordan's droning voice with half an ear. When her turn came to take the podium and address the congress, she just barely managed to sound interested when she expostulated on the advantages of how a cultural exchange and sharing of technology could be beneficial to both the Surrans and the Federation.

"Therefore, it is with pleasure that we, on behalf of the Federation, grant Surra and its two inhabited moons full membership. All the conditions laid down by the United Federation of Planets have been met..."

There was applause from the floor as she stepped down the podium and Admiral Ordan took his turn. He listed all the benefits Surra would reap, benefits which included protection from warring worlds which had been the primary motivation for Surra's application. They had been under attack from a neighbouring world. Their peace had been undermined, and subservience to an order that disregarded their cultural identity and paid scant respect for dignity and their own particular pacifist notions was the principal motive towards union with a greater power. The United Federation of Planets was a federation within which Surra could conduct its social and political identity as an independent world. Their uniqueness was maintained and respected.

Kathryn shifted impatiently in her seat and once or twice she looked back to where Lenina Benar was sitting. Lenina was listening intently to Ordan, and Admiral Gordon, who was seated next to him, appeared ready to take his turn.

Kathryn thought of the old woman who'd erupted into her life and just as stealthily vanished again.

_You will not have to walk alone _

_when once you see the flower of stone _

The words kept repeating in her brain, a persistent hum like a melody that teased the conscience with its familiarity, over and over. Before she had time to ask what the woman meant, she had disappeared into thin air. Like a shooting star she had come and gone, briefly and brilliantly dazzling, yet leaving those who believed beyond what science dictated and where such belief was often met with scorn or skepticism, numb with wonder. Those who were touched were left with a vague sort of hope of the wish they made.

The old woman had gone, but not before leaving a cryptic message. What did it mean? Her road forward, without the man in her life who meant the world to her, was a lonely road. She knew that, even accepted it. She missed Chakotay every day, thought about him every day. She knew that as long as she lived, she would never have closure. When they had been lost in the Delta Quadrant, her fiancé Mark had married by the time two years had passed, thinking and accepting that he would never see her again. Voyager too, had been declared missing in action and its crew presumed dead, until the Pathfinder project. But she wasn't Mark and to this day she questioned whether he'd ever loved her as deeply and completely as the love she felt for Chakotay. In her heart she knew she couldn't take the step that Mark had taken, and although she could never blame Mark and anyone who was caught in a similar situation and accepted that he had to get on with his life, it wasn't something she could ever consider.

Owen Paris had told her, "You may have to accept that Chakotay is dead, and mourn him..."

She refused to mourn. If she did that, it meant that she had lost hope. If she lost hope, her life would be one of despair.

The old woman had stirred something in her; her words were deep and mysterious and puzzling. What was the flower of stone? Where was such a flower, if indeed there were one as the old woman portended? Was it on Surra?

"Lenina, did you see the old woman who accosted me just before the intersection?" she'd asked when she had caught up with the group again as the walked towards the Conference Hall.

Lenina had given a little smile.

"I did not see her but by your description, it must be old Nu'aru. She is quite harmless - "

"I was not afraid of her..."

"No, I do not mean like that, Admiral Janeway. I must also tell you that you are indeed privileged. Nu'aru does not often touch anyone and when she does, her words always have hidden meanings..."

"I know. She told me - "

Lenina's hand went up.

"Please, Admiral Janeway, do not tell me or anyone else what Nu'aru said. It was meant only for you and the magic will be gone the moment you impart it to someone else before you have unraveled the mystery of her words."

"I...understand."

The men had looked askance at her but she ignored their obvious scepticism. Kathryn tried to picture Nu'aru's face. The detail eluded her, except for Nu'aru's silvery-white hair, like an impressionist painting, where only the impression of the image dictated the mood or the tone, even the message. They had continued in the direction of the Hall. After that, they had been too busy with the talks, and Lenina seemed to have forgotten all about Nu'aru. Kathryn wondered if Lenina did it deliberately. She obviously knew the eccentric woman and even believed that Nu'aru was prophetic. It was possible that Lenina herself may have been a recipient of Nu'aru's oracles. It wasn't as if they had stood alone at the intersection. There had been people milling about them, but they had been caught in a frame, frozen in a moment in which she and Nu'aru existed alone. The people had seemed oblivious of Nu'aru and probably considered her presence as normal.

_When once you see the flower of stone... _

Teasing, teasing...

Kathryn shook her head as the words of Admiral Gordon drifted to her. She gave a little sigh. She wanted to be back in her suite on the Pearston to think. Nu'aru's words were not so much a portent as it were a clear message, the order of it to be carried out. If she saw the flower of stone, she should be doing something with it, but...where and what? How?

Gordon's voice jerked her to the present.

"Therefore members of the Ministry, Surra is now officially a member of the United Federation of Planets." Another round of applause followed and minutes later, Kathryn braced herself for the banquet that would follow the conclusion of talks. She wasn't looking forward to it, but acknowledged that her lack of enthusiasm for the festivities was rooted in her own preoccupation with the import of the old woman's prophetic words.

Kathryn lay in bed that night, exhausted but still too alert to sleep. She was filled with great satisfaction that the official aspect of the visit had gone well, that the Federation could help a homeworld that needed assistance and that Surra would now share their technology in exchange for many other benefits. She was also glad it was over. She couldn't get back to the ship quickly enough to think about the day's events and especially about the mysterious white-haired Nu'aru.

Somewhere on Surra, there had to be a reference to a "flower of stone". Kathryn had a vague knowledge based on conjecture about what was probably a sculpture. Her interest had been in painting, mainly, though not to the extent and talent of her sister. Nu'aru didn't know her at all, yet she had made her way unerringly to the only female member of the delegation to Surra. Was it a special flower belonging to the indigenous flora of Surra? Why would seeing the flower make her road ahead less lonely?

Kathryn shook her head as she got out of bed, unable to rest or fall asleep, despite her exhaustion. Slipping on the burgundy terry robe that used to be Chakotay's, she padded quickly to the replicator.

She grinned after ordering "Coffee, black" in much the same way she had done on Voyager. Carrying the steaming cup with her to the small office where her vid-com was, she quickly accessed the flora of Surra. She grimaced as she took her first sip. It was hot and bitter. She had gone almost completely off coffee in the last two years and only rarely indulged.

Frame after frame of flowers appeared on the screen, with botanical names that were completely alien to her. She recognised none of the names and the flowers were exotic, some she had seen when they walked along the tree-lined plazas of the First City. They were beautiful, big, colourful and none of them triggered anything in Kathryn's memory as a vague reminder of something she had seen before. There were a few orchid-like blooms, but clearly they looked too exotic even though some rare orchids on Earth - a new variety had only recently been cultivated by Tuvok - also carried a tag of being exotic.

"I'm drawing a blank," she murmured as her eyes drooped and she had emptied her cup. "I'm talking to myself. What am I thinking?"

Idly flicking through the database of Surran lore and culture, she latched onto something interesting.

"Stupid Kathryn..." she murmured again as she accessed the events calendar for Surra and started a new search.

By the time she was back in bed, she knew she would never sleep. It was already 0500 hours. A trip to the holodeck might calm her. She washed, dressed and left the suite. By the time she was sitting on Breakfast Rock in her New Earth recreation, she felt calmer, drawing in deep breaths as the river rushed gently and the leaves from overhanging branches provided adequate shade. The thrill and impatience of getting to the First City had been unbearable, but here, she could pull herself back and let the sound of the water, the rustle of leaves and the far-off sound of birds centre her again.

She let her thoughts wander to Voyager, to Chakotay and to the last month on the ship. She had not been happy in the first weeks of her marriage. The knowledge that Chakotay married her to fend off Seven of Nine had rankled, and her own weakness for accepting his proposal when she knew the foundation of their marriage would not be a strong one, one built on trust and love and understanding, had kept her from making any overtures to him. She loved him desperately, and the times when there had to be physical contact between them, whether it was a spontaneous gesture or one they put up on for the benefit of the crew, became a supreme exercise in self-control.

Nights, when they returned to their quarters, were spent in silence. Going over the day's events and reading reports from various departments were sober and reserved. Both had been too aware of what they had done, and the resentment on her part still too close to the surface. Yet, her joy was internal, her heart singing a silent song of love she couldn't share with anyone. Chakotay would merely say "goodnight" before making off to his side and she only saw him again when he was already on the bridge and sitting in his command chair.

Many times she could see his hesitation, the urge in him to touch her cheek. He'd put his hand up, then lower it slowly with a sigh.

"Chakotay..."

"What is it, Kathryn?"

"We should dissolve this marriage. It's nothing but a charade..."

He had been unable to hide his consternation.

"No! No... I don't want to - to divorce..."

He had said the word as if it were something distasteful. He looked deeply unhappy, and she, unrelenting.

"We're not happy."

"I didn't expect to be, Kathryn, considering - "

"What, Chakotay?"

Another sigh escaped him; his hands hung at his sides and that, more than his voice and eyes, told her how defeated he appeared. Yet, he remained resolute about not wanting to end their marriage. They had hardly been married three weeks...

"Look, I'm sorry that there had to be a reason other than my feelings for you for this marriage. I'm sorry. It was unthinking and unfeeling of me. But I can't change it. I said it, though the spirits forgive me. I want us to remain together because despite everything, I love you. I haven't stopped since the first day I met you. It will not change..."

She had looked at him, saw only the love that lay exposed. How could she turn him away like she had done so many times?

"Then, let's be friends, for now, okay?" she had whispered hoarsely, reaching for his hand and pressing it to her lips. Chakotay had given her a grateful smile, then nodded.

"Thank you, Kathryn, for giving us another chance."

She had so very badly just wanted to rest her head against his broad chest. Instead, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. After that day, he was happier, the air cleared between them. She had taken to kissing him goodnight, something that pleasured him so much that he prolonged the kiss. Slowly, gently, they explored their possibilities, kissing often, hugging, lying against him on the couch in the evenings. In the mornings she'd wake up to find him looking down at her, insisting that she enjoy breakfast with him before going on duty. She began to look forward to waking up that way, with Chakotay staring down at her, or his weight creaking the bed when he sat down next to her.

She knew that the time would come very soon that they would take the final step to make their union complete.

Kathryn gave a small sigh. Even now as she looked up at the sky, she couldn't believe that it had been impossible to trace Chakotay. Deep in the Gamma Quadrant, with Chakotay leaving his vessel for much needed shore leave. He had been alone, and the only thing they found down on Elora was his commbadge. There had been ripples of political unrest in the Eloran Star System and Chakotay's subsequent disappearance the result of an abduction, they claimed. There was no trace of him within ten sectors, and their long range sensors couldn't pick up any lifesigns of the Captain of the Serengeti.

She had gone alternately cold and hot when summoned to Hays's office after Chakotay didn't respond to her subspace message. The Serengeti had remained in the sector of the Eloran Star System for two weeks, during which they had searched frantically for its captain. In those days, her hope had been very high that they'd find him, but her own mission to Elora two months later had proved fruitless. The only traces were that he had been abducted by rival factions and that those factions had later all been wiped out. If that were so, those at Starfleet Headquarters argued, then where was Chakotay's body? Chakotay's body was never found.

How could someone vanish like that?

_Believe that he died... _

_In the line of duty... _

_Missing in action, presumed dead... _

She had refused to entertain the unthinkable. They had been home only two months and their devotion to one another had deepened. Chakotay would never leave her. He had committed himself to her - heart, mind and body.

"I will find you, Chakotay. I refuse to believe you're dead somewhere..."

It was as if he heard her words, full of passion and urgency. An image of just such a setting, when he had joined her on Breakfast Rock and where later they made love, came to her. He had looked clean-shaven that morning, his eyes devoid of dark shadows, a lilt to his voice.

"I love you, Kathryn," he said. He had taken her palm and pressed it against his chest. The words had been a vow, a deep expression of his commitment to her. Her eyes had filled with tears. Only the previous night, they had made love for the first time and she thought that a miracle had happened to them.

"A miracle happened..." she breathed, still too full of the sanctity of their union. "We're almost home and a miracle happened..."

"Am I forgiven, Kathryn?" he had asked, a sliver of doubt settling in his eyes.

They had become darker, with the old shadows darting in them, and she had marveled that he could look a little unsure of their new-found happiness, even more that he desired so intensely to be forgiven. Seven of Nine still lurked like a stealthy entity, a lifesign with self-awareness yet unseen between them. The former Borg had quietly, and with great dignity, accepted that the man she worshipped with such a childish fantasy was married to the captain of the ship and that he was happy with her. Kathryn had admired Seven of Nine who had, when they arrived on Earth, left for Vulcan for a year. Kathryn's resentment had long given way to pity and the reason for her anger towards her husband had dissipated. She had allowed it to sour what could have been meaningful from the outset for her and Chakotay. What was there to forgive? Her own foolishness and the intense desire to hurt him? She had given a sigh, touched his cheek gently, his eyes, with their dark shadows, closing at the soft caress of her fingers.

"There is nothing to forgive. I was at fault. The - the way you proposed...what I thought was your main motivation... It hurt me, I must admit. But I shouldn't have punished you with my bitterness..."

Her voice had faltered then and Chakotay had scooped her into his arms, holding her so tightly that she couldn't breathe for a moment, until he relaxed his hold on her. They had remained like that for several long minutes, quiet in the greatness of the hour. The sound of the river, the birds, the agitated low screech of the primate were just background noises, but completed the picture of peace.

"Once you asked me if I thought you could make me happy," he had said, his eyes heated as he remembered the night's passion. "I will always hunger for you, Kathryn. Every look, every nuance of movement, every whispered word of love, every time you say my name, I will feed on that. You - you cannot know how completely my happiness lies in your hands. It has made me afraid, sometimes, but it has also lifted me to the highest peaks, because I know now that you will cherish that power..."

"You are a poet," she had whispered, her voice quivering with deep emotion.

Chakotay smiled tenderly.

"I am nothing without you..."

_I am nothing without you... _

Kathryn's thoughts rushed to the present. It was almost time to go. She rose from Breakfast Rock, smoothed down her uniform and prepared to leave. It was still early, but she'd have breakfast in her suite first before going planetside. She could feel her heartbeat quickening at the thought. As she exited the holodeck she murmured the words softly, like a vow:

_You will not have to walk alone _

_when once you see the flower of stone _

"You asked to meet me here, Admiral," said Lenina Benar. The tall woman looked down on Kathryn, though her demeanour remained painfully polite.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me. You did indicate yesterday that you have more time now for the more pleasurable aspects of our stay here. I thought I'd ask you to accompany me to the Surran Art and Craft Exhibition."

"It will be my pleasure, I assure you. Surran art has always been valued very highly in this sector. One or two master craftsmen are stationed right here in the First City. They will most surely be on hand to showcase their craft."

"Then I'm glad I asked you, Lenina Benar."

"The other members of your delegation? They are not interested?"

Kathryn laughed, but the excitement surged inside her, her impatience growing by the minute..

"They'd rather study the planet's warp technology first before exploring Surra's cultural wealth."

"Which I am sure they have already done, Admiral Janeway," said Lenina as they boarded a transport to the great exhibition centre. "Does your visit to the exhibition have to do with old Nu'ara's sudden appearance yesterday?"

Kathryn glanced at Lenina, not really surprised. It had to be pretty clear to the Surran woman that Nu'ara's words had a great impact on her. She remembered Lenina's warning about not telling anyone of the nature of Nu'ara's message.

"I suppose I can say that it does. It was very enigmatic, I can tell you that. I'm not entirely sure that I'll discover the import of it at the exhibition. It's worth a try though..."

"Then I think you should explore all possibilities, Admiral Janeway."

Kathryn nodded and they continued the rest of the short trip in silence. Occasionally, she cast Lenina a glance, but the young woman looked, if anything, impassive to Kathryn. She wondered if Lenina knew something. Kathryn could see the dry landscape in the distance, a stark contrast to the city and its cultivated lawns, trees, and flowers. It was not unlike many planets she had visited, where terraforming was used first for the city limits. Since the city was virtually surrounded by a river, they had the water supply to keep the city and its immediate metropolis irrigated. They slowed down when they reached large buildings constructed almost entirely of glass. Kathryn frowned when they touched down, wondering if they had come to the right place. It looked more like a hothouse than an exhibition of arts and crafts.

"We're here..." said Lenina.

"I thank you, Lenina Benar."

"I think you are telling me you wish to go alone from here?"

Kathryn's mouth twisted at the corner as she nodded to Lenina.

"Please, do not wait for me. I will be hailing the Pearston when I'm finished. I know I could have beamed down to this place, but well..." Kathryn paused, the urge to tell Lenina everything about what the old woman said to her so great that she swallowed hard.

"You needed time to collect your thoughts. I know what you feel, Admiral Janeway. Sometimes, just slowing down eases the haste and makes all decisions worthwhile in the end..."

"You are very understanding, Lenina Benar. I will contact you again before we leave Surran space."

Lenina smiled gracefully, giving a little bow before getting into the shuttle again. Kathryn waited until she couldn't see the flitter anymore before she turned and headed towards the entrance of the great exhibition centre of Surran's Arts and Crafts.

"What will I see here?" she murmured as she entered through the great glass doorway.

There was an air of expectancy mingled with grave silence when she stood just inside the glass-panelled doors. There weren't many people around and she supposed that the early hour still kept many in their homes, while those present were probably fuelling their minds for the day. It was quiet and the first object that caught her eye was the massive centrepiece, a sculpture that reminded her of ancient Egyptian pharaohs. She walked towards it very slowly, taken in by the immense aloofness of the figure. The two persons who stood there moved away very quietly as they allowed her space to view the sculpture.

_So what is it that I'm supposed to see?_

She shrugged as she moved away from it and entered another room through an open archway. It was the Flower Room, according to the information she had downloaded to her PADD. The indigenous flowers of Surra were all single flowers on long stems. The first was a large, pink flower that reminded her of Earth's red hibiscus. Carved in the planet's own yield of minerals, the flowers were beautiful, so real that she was tempted to touch it. The vase was elongated and, supposed Kathryn, carved along the natural lines of the stalactite or stalagmite from which it was cut.

A flower of stone.

_Is this what I'm looking for? _she thought, walking slowly from one exhibit to another. Something she sensed was the fact of being alone in the large, air-conditioned Flower Room. Even though there were no other visitors, this feeling was different from the normal awareness when entering an empty room.

It was if everyone moved away in some kind of deference or knowledge that something was going to happen..

She stopped by every exhibit, marvelled at the realism of the carvings, hoping that one of them would signal something, an unbidden or unwritten, voiceless message.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught an exhibit that stood out a little from the rest of the others. Its colour was different as she turned to face it. Kathryn frowned as she approached the stone flower. Something, an unknown force, drew her to it. Her feet carried her in a way that, however much she wanted to fight the inexorable pull to it, was impossible to disobey. Her heart pounded wildly; there was a buzz in her ears that suddenly cut off all other sounds. Had she gone temporarily deaf? The other flowers in the room receded. She sensed how, with the unusual stone flower, they formed a unit, an almost selfish realm in which only the two of them existed.

It was completely uncanny. She couldn't look around, her eyes glued to the single stemmed flower that perched majestically in its stone vase. A pink and orange rose, carved surely not with any hand on Surra, but by a miracle. It couldn't be anything else. It seemed the petals were still wet with tiny drops of dew that gave it its morning freshness. Pink and orange alabaster that was found nowhere on any planet except Earth.

A rose. An alabaster rose.

From a long way off the words of a conversation with Chakotay came to her.

"Kathryn, do you remember the rose I gave you once? The peace rose, with its velvety pinkish-orange sheen?"

"Yes, it was the day after we crashed in the Sacajaweya. I - I was dead for a few seconds..."

"That's the rose. I've been trying to recreate one in stone for you..."

"And?"

They had been lying in bed that morning, with Chakotay staring pensively at the ceiling. It was her birthday that day and she had not wanted anything.

"I'm afraid I don't have the talent..."

She had shifted on her side, to stare lazily down at him.

"Whatever you give me, will be the best thing you ever made."

"Now you're making fun of me. I can do sand paintings, but trying my hand at making a rose out of alabaster... It's beyond me, Kathryn."

"Oh, Chakotay... You are talented. Why do you belittle your own creativity so?"

"It's just that I wanted to use only hand implements and not phaser one into existence for you. You know what I mean - "

"I know exactly what you mean, honey. Whatever you've created, I'm sure I'll keep it forever. It's made of forever stone, right?"

Chakotay had given her a sad smile, then pulled her closer to hug her fiercely. When he released her after a few moments, he looked deeply into her eyes.

"It's too late. I trashed it..."

"Oh, Chakotay..."

So their conversation drifted to her. Why she hadn't made the connection instantly, she would never know. It was impossible to miss, yet she did. It could have been the unlikelihood of finding roses on Surra with its single mountain range and the absence of the kind of minerals that was found only on Earth. Only that one time had they talked about stone flowers. She had never seen the one Chakotay made, and even though he thought himself not equal to the greatest sculptors in the history of Earth, she was pretty sure that he must have produced a masterpiece. Only, Chakotay didn't believe it and for a mad, mad moment he didn't believe in himself. As a result, he destroyed what he created. The possibility of finding such a flower on Surra had never entered her head. Never. Was it all part of the whole spell? she wondered. She stared at the sculpture in front of her.

It was perfection in every single line, in every curve of every petal. No sliver or serration along the top edges of the petals was out of place or discordant. The pink fused magnificently with peach and light orange to give it a pearly, oyster-like sheen. Even as she looked at it, it seemed to her that the petals quivered in some unknown breeze. Flicking on her tricorder, she scanned the flower for its mineral composition. Her heart raced as she studied the readout. Seconds later, her gaze fixed on the rose again, shaking her head in disbelief.

"This can't be true," she murmured softly.

"We have been unable to locate the source of the stone used for the flower as well as the ore for the vase," a voice sounded behind her. She almost screamed as she swung round to face the owner of the voice.

"It's alabaster, from the Ural Mountains on my home planet, Earth," she whispered. "The vase is malachite..." She didn't know the tall Surran who stood in front of her, but she guessed him to be one of the two sculptors who lived in the First City.

"My name is Yohara Par," he said. "Yes, we have determined it to be an alien mineral, not from these sectors. We do not know how it came to be here..."

"The mineral?" she asked.

"And the sculpture," he replied.

"You did not make this?"

"That may be the word to describe what I do, Admiral Janeway. I make things and I know I am proficient at what I do. What you see here is a flower not of this world, created in exquisite perfection using material not of this world. Even if both were found here, I could not capture the realism of that flower. It is the expression of an art that has reached the highest of the high. It surpasses all knowledge, all comprehension. The person who made this is a creator, with talent that only a higher order could have bestowed. It is borne of an inner nobility that has been recognised and given a blessing, a confirmation and reward. No, I did not create that. Someone else did..."

Kathryn's initial surprise was replaced by the growing suspicion that she knew who was responsible for the flawlessly carved stone flower. She had not seen any such sculptures in her life, but she knew somewhere, somehow, Chakotay was involved.

"You know such a person, Admiral?" Yohara Par asked, as if he read her turbulent thoughts. She swallowed painfully as she looked at the stone flower again. Her whole being, every fibre, every nerve, every thought past, present and still to be formulated, was drawn and tied to it. Her turmoil receded slowly, the terrible longing for a husband gone three years, the bitter refusal to give up believing that he'd died, all seeped from her body. In her heart she knew now that Chakotay had left this for her. How he had done so remained a mystery, but now she didn't feel that loneliness that had walked with her for three long years. It settled inside her, peace, like the rose she was looking at, suffusing her being at last.

"I know such a person. I do not know if that person created this, Yohara. But I must find out..."

"You do not ask how it came here?"

The words struck her like a flash of lightning and her eyes widened. She had been so drawn to the beauty of the object that it had slipped her mind completely.

"No."

"A star traveller to these parts brought it here. She claimed it was created by a slave..."

"Slave?"

"More than that I cannot tell, Admiral, because more than that the traveller was not prepared to divulge. She said that it should remain on Surra and that one day the person looking for it would come. All I know is that old Nu'ara took one look at it and went into a trance-like state, after which she kept saying she must find the one looking for it..."

_Find the one looking for it? _

"I was never searching for this, Yohara."

"I know. But that is the way of old Nu'ara, always full of cryptic messages."

"So a star traveller brought it here from another homeworld..."

"Where the composition of the mineral is identical to that of your homeworld. I know not of such a world."

"You have already tried to discover its source?"

Yohara shook his head, his disappointment apparent.

"I should like to learn from such a man," he said quietly.

"If I may be allowed to take this on my vessel for further analysis - "

"It is yours. It was looking for its owner."

His words were so unwavering that she could not but believe the truth of them. Nu'ara was convinced that there was no person on Surra who could claim ownership. Was that why she focused on every newcomer to Surra? Keeping her eyes on the master craftsman Yohara Par, Kathryn hit her commbadge.

"Janeway to USS Pearston."

"Rollins here. What can I do for you, Admiral?"

"Lock on to this object and beam it directly to your science lab, Magnus," she ordered, flicking on the tricorder and giving Magnus the co-ordinates of the flower. In a second it dematerialised in the transporter beam.

Yohara Par showed no surprise but his eyes lit up as Kathryn greeted him in the formal way of their race. She placed her hand against her breast and lowered her head. Then she hit her commbadge again.

"Janeway to Pearston. One to beam up."

TBC CH. 3


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The doors to her quarters slid open noiselessly. It was not true of course, but the low hum and barely audible bustle on the ship created a sense of silence as Kathryn entered. He watched her keenly; there was a lightness to her step, and her smile was wondrously light. She had not been this happy before. It was in her movements, her gestures, the heightened colour in her cheeks.

He had been waiting for her to return to their quarters after she had been in consultation with Admiral Paris. The afternoon had been a whirl of excitement and making arrangements for Voyager's journey to Earth. His heart quickened a beat when she stepped up to him and took his hands in hers.

"You're happy. I can see," he said gently.

"I am. We're almost home. After seven long years...we're almost home..."

"Home..." he repeated her breathless words.

"Oh, Chakotay!" Kathryn cried as she threw herself against him. She felt warm and soft, and her body trembled a little; she completely knocked his breath away. He stood stunned at the force of her emotion, feeling how her arms clamped tightly around him as if she wouldn't let him go. He was aware of her incredible softness, her perfume, the smell of her hair. He wanted to press her gently away from him, remembering that they kept separate beds. But memories of their renewed friendship, the warmth, the camaraderie, the goodnight kisses, her caresses that he tried to ignore but enjoyed with so much tenderness, came and swamped him.

It was impossible to push her away; Kathryn wormed herself against him, lifting her head to look up into his eyes. She was beautiful, with her eyes large and smoky, and her lips quivering. He didn't want to think whether she was waiting for him to make the first move, or whether she hesitated to move.

Who cared?

There were no winners, no losers. Just equal partners who recognised a terrifying, searing hunger in one another and who rejoiced for once that all boundaries were shattered in those moments. Kathryn's hand came up and he marvelled at the at the way she concentrated on watching her fingers rise to touch his lips, how her eyes followed the movement of her fingers. She wanted to focus on every spot where her hands touched his face.

He groaned, the sound an entreaty, a plea that she continue. Finally, unable to curb his growing arousal, the thunderous beat of his heart or his heavy, deep gasps for air, he pulled her into him, and let his fingers run through her hair, her glorious, glorious hair.

The whispers of endearments that tore from their throats were affirmed with sound. A gasp, a soft moan, a cry from the heart. Fingers laced in her hair, pulled her head back so that her long neck lay exposed, the lips parted as Kathryn waited for his mouth to descend on hers.

It was a simple touch, a benediction and a promise of what lay ahead as he lifted her up in his arms and carried her to his bed. She clung to him, burying her face in his neck. He wanted to die when her lips burned his skin.

He had loved her for a long time. Almost, he had given up. Now, Kathryn lay on the bed as she pulled him down with her, her hands working at opening his jacket, removing his top. Her breathing came in shallow gasps and the temptation was so great to touch her again that he cried out from the frustration. Yet he knew that Kathryn needed to touch him in every way she desired. So he endured the slow, slow torture as she removed his clothing. Her hands moved across his chest, a tantalising torture of barely touching him, just skimming over his skin. A breeze, hairs on his chest that suddenly quirked to attention, his nipples aching from their heated need to be relieved.

No words.

Yet he knew the exact instant that Kathryn wanted him to touch her. She'd hardly touched him, yet he experienced an excruciating pain of flesh touching flesh. Already his skin felt damp, and when he heard a soft cry escape her as he removed her jacket, he broke. His lips sought hers hungrily, plunging his tongue into her mouth and tasting her sweetness. Light touches interspersed with little gasps, claiming her upper lip between his, licking, sucking, all just gentle, light touches that robbed him of his breath. If anything, she became even softer, more pliant than he thought possible. Her hand quickly caught his when he slipped his fingers in the top band of her panty. Gently, she guided him as he kept stroking her thigh, finally sliding the garment off her body.

She pulled him up against her so that he lay snugly between her thighs, her welcoming thighs, where her heat and moistness burned and cooled at once. His fingers dipped between them, investigating the source of the dampness... He groaned out loud this time. She was soft, so wet that he thought he'd die of the sensation as his finger gently stroked her slit. Then, impatiently he removed his hand, caught her hair again and shifted so that Kathryn lifted her hips for him. He thought instantly of afternoons thick with swirling clouds, of mornings filled with flowered fields and the sun just touching the flower heads. Images of mountains, of deep crevices, of what might be heaven and earth fused into one entity, alive with sounds and sensations of smell. He thought of an open ocean, waves so high they touched the clouds. A storm in the process of its birth...

He thought: Kathryn wants me...

_I love you, Kathryn... _The words tumbled about in his brain like a drowning man on the open seas. It seemed Kathryn heard those words even though he never spoke them. If anything, her body widened into intense receptiveness. She invited him, made him as if he were home. All this he only felt, sensing with humility that Kathryn's mind, heart and soul joined her body and rejoiced his entry into her realm. In reality, all he knew was that he nudged her core and slid deep inside her welcoming depths, with every word his mind silently uttered, sinking in deeper and deeper until there was no more space to move. He filled her completely and her flesh rallied around his hardened shaft, lubricating him. He stared into her eyes, wide eyes that widened even more as he started to thrust gently. Her momentary surprise quickly made way for pure ecstasy. It was in her eyes, always her eyes. Kathryn did not capitulate to his advances. She became a player, equally ferocious, equally tender. Her hands were on his back, nails digging into his flesh, pain he never felt as she scored him.

_I am dying... I cannot any more... It is too much._ The words were desperate pleas for a supreme release that hovered cruelly, causing him to thrust harder as Kathryn arched, her hips bucking in wild encouragement. _Remember the words I read you, my love...remember_...

_...in this immensity _

_my thoughts are drowned, and shipwreck seems sweet _

_to me in this sea... _

He was losing his grip on reality. He was drowning, dizzily drifting away on a stormy sea where he let the storm toss him madly, wildly. He didn't care. No more was he aware that Kathryn was beneath him for she was part of him. He was part of her. He had no idea where he was, except that he felt he was in the eye of a storm.

Were they two or were they one?

One movement. One moment. One lifetime.

Forever.

The waves tossed him like he was nothing and finally delivered him to the mercy of the sandy shore. There he lay, sweet shipwreck, gasping, thanking the spirits that he was still alive. Wet and alive. How did he come to lie on his back? Did Kathryn's hands, gentle as a butterfly's touch, roll him on to his back? How could he know? All he saw, when at length he opened his eyes, was that she was staring down at him.

She looked stormy. Beautiful and mussed and stormy. Her blue-grey eyes still smouldered and her breathing was marking down time until it became even, less gasping. Her lips were parted and if he could paint her in those moments, he swore to the gods there would never be a paintbrush to transform his fevered thoughts to canvas.

"We begin here," she breathed, her hair falling forward so that he couldn't see her eyes.

Weak his arms and body were, still heavy in the aftermath of the storm, but he pulled Kathryn to him and held her close, his fingers caressing her hair. Long they lay that way, and from time to time he kissed her hair, her closed eyes...

Then there was a sound, coming from afar...

The intrusion came first as a thin whining sound, like the wail of a klaxon or alarm sounding. Chakotay, roused from his thoughts as he held Kathryn, came slowly awake. He looked around him, felt the space next to him. There was nothing.

He groaned, sat up in bed with his head in his hands.

"Kathryn...?"

"Kathryn..."

A second later he cried out in pain. Like a white-hot metal rod, it poked his brain, cleaved into its hemispheres, torturing him blind until he could endure it no more.

_Don't think of Kathryn. Don't think of home... _

_Think only of your place, slave. For here, only the night is yours where you may be allowed to dream. I will determine how you think when you are awake, slave. Dare you not think of home, of your beloved. You have a task...Your task is to serve me... _

Chakotay rose sluggishly from the bed. He felt for the source of the pain; his fingers touched a cold metal device attached to his temple. He knew its lights were flickering red. He blanked out all thought of Kathryn, of the home they'd shared, of their nights of love. Always the same dream, the first night they made love. Always, the rude awakening when the claxon sounded. Then it was morning. The pain dimmed until it subsided slowly. Although it simmered still in his head, like an aftermath, he breathed a sigh of relief. Kathryn and home and memories were now safely tucked away. They were there, and that was good enough for him, for now. Now he could prepare for the day.

His mind was clear, purged of his dream. For the moment he'd forgotten all that he'd once known, that had been part of his life.

Kathryn was no more.

"Do you think, Maestro, that I will be able to perfect my sculpture?"

The dark, thin man wrung his hands. Chakotay saw the ravages of pain on Kraf's face. The normally sunken cheeks and beady eyes appeared deeper and darker and the long furrows between Kraf's eyes knitted closer together. Kraf was enduring pain, battling at the same time to curb his thoughts or focus them on something else. A muscle in his jaw twitched and his lips were drawn thinly together. Kraf was going to lose consciousness soon.

"Let me be wise today and instruct you to harness all your thoughts into your sculpture."

"Maestro, I am not well - "

"See here?" Chakotay pointed to the piece on the table. It glowed a luminescent orange, the flower seeming to breathe. He touched the alien's shoulder and steered him to look at the art work. Kraf stared, then after a few moments he nodded. Chakotay expelled a sigh of relief. Kraf's furiously knitted brow smoothed somewhat and the jaw stopped twitching. He cast a Chakotay a glance.

"It is not good, Maestro. Not good enough. My creation is flawed - "

"But is not a small flaw in a masterpiece also what will enhance the work and give it identity?"

"I do not reason as you do, Maestro. Perhaps it is because you are already the best of all the master craftsmen here, therefore you allow yourself a little luxury of being...less than perfect?"

"You should not let Empress Mirah hear you speak such words. She strives to coax only the best from us..."

"I understand. You are also her favourite, Maestro, and she is sometimes kinder to you than to others. But we do not begrudge your art... We all wish to be like you..."

Chakotay sighed. They were all superlative in their various fields. They had nothing to fear, nothing to emulate. He had himself had those feelings of inadequacy at one time. Kraf was brilliant in his field.

"We each define our own uniqueness. You know that. It's been told to you many times, Kraf."

"But my flower is imperfect. It is from my homeworld and blooms only for two days out of every year. The colour is not right."

Chakotay shook his head in mild exasperation. The beauty of Kraf's flower lay in its very rare aspect. Kraf didn't realise how the pride in his voice, the softness that crept in when he looked at his sculpture, made the glow swell and recede.

"I haven't seen this flower before, nor quite this colour, but I can tell you that you have completed your fifth masterpiece, Kraf. Be glad. You should think of your next project."

"But, Maestro, the Empress - "

"Will be satisfied with your work. Don't be so concerned. As long as you focus, you will not have pain."

Kraf looked at Chakotay with gratitude. Chakotay shrugged inwardly. All the dark alien needed was encouragement and the ability to believe in himself. He had little faith that his work showed merit, and Kraf needed to have that faith restored. Though...

"You know that we have been given these gifts, Maestro, which enhance our natural talents. One day..."

"We cannot go back, Kraf. But yes, one day, should we ever leave here, you will lose the powers of the added abilities."

"So will you, Maestro."

Chakotay smiled. He was satisfied that he could produce works of extraordinary quality no one had ever seen, but when the spell was broken? He had no care about his added creative ability. It meant nothing if it kept him away from known things.

"Yes," he sighed, "so will I. Now, Kraf, will you continue with your work? I have others to monitor later. I am glad those furrows are straightened out."

Kraf touched his face and smiled.

"I feel better, Maestro."

Chakotay nodded before turning away from Kraf. He had never liked being called Maestro, but since Empress Mirah had given him the task of overseeing everyone else's work, they had taken naturally to deferring to him. He tolerated the address in good spirit. Their deference to him was natural and unfeigned, unlike the way in which they paid homage to the Empress. He walked towards his own work station which was secluded and very spacious. It was situated at the far end of the massive studio.

Environmental controls kept them all breathing and alive. It was hard to believe that they were deep in the heart of a mountain range, and that Empress Mirah reigned here in total isolation. Stranger even was the fact that most of the minerals here resembled closely those of other homeworlds, and the malachite and alabaster that he used as his own medium had the identical composition as that found on Earth. It wasn't even different. It was the same.

It was all they knew of the place. No one had ever been outside and no one had seen any daylight, or moonlight. He was reminded many times of the Ocampans, who lived deep under the surface of their planet and who engineered their survival based solely on what the underground yielded. Where this planet was, or the nature of its land features, remained a mystery to all of them. It could very well be unpopulated except for the poor, stolen souls in the belly of the mountain.

His own last memory of freedom had been walking along a terraced walkway on Elora. He had paused at a small stand where a vendor was selling ornaments and he had wanted to buy one for Kathryn. Chakotay gave a little cry as a sudden fierce pain shot through his head. Standing still, he allowed the pain to spread and linger until it filled him. Taking a deep breath, forcing himself to allow the pain to be a part of him, he thought of that day on Elora.

The small, crystal-shaped pendant had looked translucent, little sparks shooting off it as he lifted it to get a better look. The vendor had seemed unperturbed by the fact that Chakotay had not asked permission to lift it from its bed of soft fabric.

"It was made by a man from far lands," the vendor said.

Chakotay had been impressed by the artistry of the object and thought Kathryn would love it. He had already been away six weeks from home and he was missing her fiercely. He stifled another small cry.

_Let the pain drill through every nerve and jump from nerve ending to nerve ending; let it rally and eat into every thought, every memory of your loved one. Endure it, for you need your memory. Do not cry out. Ride with its onslaught and soon, the pain will be a part of you for those moments you need your memories... _

Chakotay's upper lip trembled; perspiration beads glistened as he endured the torture of the synaptic enhancer. It picked up instantly when one had a thought of home, of a loved one, and especially, of escape. Now during the day the enhancer was tuned to full strength. Chakotay heard the groans of the other craftsmen and women and knew they were struggling too, thinking about families they'd left behind. But the second they thought of escape, the enhancer held them down, cruelly bent them double and lanced through the body like a red-hot knife. Weeks after his own capture, after collapsing several times from sheer pain, he had trained his thoughts away from escape.

No one had dared to escape.

When he reached his work station, the nausea that sat in the pit of his stomach rose and he heaved several times, struggling to keep it down. But braving the torture to think of Kathryn, of blue-grey eyes, of a crystal pendant he wanted to hang round her neck, was worth all the drilling in his brain

_Dream of Kathryn... Endure the torture. Enjoy it even... _

Six weeks away from home on an alien world and he wanted to buy Kathryn a crystal pendant. He remembered thinking that he could easily have tried to make Kathryn one, or the heavens forbid, replicate her one. He had the skill, and although he didn't have the talent like Chell or the great master craftsman from the Udaran Hills on Sepaka IV, he knew he'd try his best. Still, the jewel stared at him and made him think of trying to make one even better. He had always dreamed of such talent...dreamed of scaling heights such as he never had with his present work...

That was when he felt a strange shiver go through him. It was as if someone heard or read his thoughts over a great distance, across the universe. Chakotay had looked quizzically at the vendor. The little man looked a non-plussed by his expression of alarm. It was at the precise instant he wished that he could have amazing talent and create the most exceptional works of art that he felt that shiver go through him.

Was he scanned at that moment? It had to be, for a second later, before he could hail his ship, he was enveloped in a beam like a transporter and his commbadge had slipped off. Someone far from him had read his mind or divined his thoughts, his wishes, his dreams... He felt a slight displacement and the next moment he was looking at the most eerily beautiful figure of a tall woman. He sensed her evil, though not of the kind that sought to destroy, but to keep him ensnared. Her hand reached for him and the next instant a cold disc was attached to his temple. He was told it was a synaptic enhancer. Flashing red when he had thoughts of home and family, steel blue when he was focused. Yellow... Only one so far had died...

The first days had been the hardest. He had been demented trying to escape, trying to alert his ship. What made it worse was that he didn't know where he was. Where he was, was inside a series of large caverns. That was all. But he was not alone. There were others of many different races who had been whisked away just like him. All of them had at some point had a desire or wish to have a greater gift than already bestowed on them. They all looked as desperately unhappy and distraught as he had been.

"I am Empress Mirah," the voice of the tall woman echoed in the massive cavern. "You are here

because you all desire to be master craftsmen. You are here because you will become master craftsmen. You will be the best of all artists, the best in the universe..."

The murmur that had gone up had turned to cries of pain. The synaptic enhancers had begun their work. Chakotay bent double when an image of Kathryn flashed in his brain. When he rose to his feet again, the Empress Mirah's eyebrows lifted high. Her lips curved in what he thought was a smile.

"Good, now that you know what the enhancers are for, you are each assigned to a station. Each one will be given the opportunity to explore their creative ability in their field. I will enhance your ability..."

Now, after three years, he had learned to train his thoughts, even endure pain during the day, just to keep alive the memory of Kathryn, her parents and sister who had become his family, and all those on Voyager and the Serengeti.

Was there ever a positive side? With some self-disgust, he admitted that there was only one very dubious benefit.

His first sculpture had been nothing like he had ever imagined, nothing. Once before he had destroyed his own creation, thinking that it wasn't good enough, that it was mediocre and not worthy of being seen or shared. He had wanted to give it to Kathryn, then trashed it before she had even laid eyes on it. He had been disgusted afterwards. Here, the Empress had enhanced his creative instinct, giving him additional artistic flair. It took him a long time to perfect the first stone flower. The moment he looked down on the sculpture he had so lovingly created out of alabaster and malachite, he knew that the enhancements had not only heightened his ability - they also gave him a deep, mysterious and innate insight into art and the expression of it.

Empress Mirah had been happy with his piece. He had hoped that she would take it to the outside world.

_Even a little flaw can increase the value of a work of art, and define its incomparability._ He remembered those words during one late afternoon of musing about his life with Kathryn, in which the pain tortured him so intensely that he lost consciousness at times.

And so he made a mark on his stone flower, a signature that could lead Starfleet, or anyone who could alert Starfleet, to the Mountain of the Great Caves, ruled over by Empress Mirah.

The nausea had subsided. Chakotay grimaced. Mirah had no idea that he had managed to get the stone flower out of the caves. He had trained his thoughts so hard that she had hardly noticed the one thought that lay underneath. One craftsman had become seriously ill as a result of the constant torturing pain. Chakotay kept a lonely vigil at Raël's bedside until he died. Mirah had been indulgent those few days, in a giving mood, and she had given him permission to keep a vigil. He had his second stone flower, carved in the early hours of every morning, as a decoy at his station... Until Raël died, he had not known why he had secretly made another stone flower identical to the first.

Empress Mirah could enslave them. She could torture them, but a dead artist was of no use to her. His body was disposable, but not in her caves, or her world. Raël's body was whisked away to his homeworld the same way she'd brought him to the Mountains of the Great Caves. With Raël was also transported Chakotay's precious stone flower...

Chakotay's hands gripped the table edge as crystal shards of pain pierced his nerve cells.

"Kathryn, in the name of the spirits... Come to me..." he murmured just before he lost consciousness.

TBC Ch 4


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Lieutenant-Commander Hort looked up as Kathryn and Magnus Rollins entered the Pearston's Science Lab. They had given him five hours in which to analyse the stone flower and his expression had been sceptical when Magnus insisted that it was possible to produce results in less than the time stipulated. Kathryn had grinned inwardly at Magnus's discreet but firm order, to which Hort shrugged and promised he'd do his best.

Now, as they entered, the man, a Ketarchan with pointed ears and yellow eyes, appeared unable to contain his excitement. Normally very reserved, he actually pulled his mouth into a smile.

"Admiral! Captain! I have some results for you," he said.

A sharp thrill coursed through Kathryn as she stepped forward.

"What have you got?" asked Magnus.

Hort's fingers hovered above the stone flower. He changed his mind, and gesticulated with the tricorder.

"Well, Captain, I can tell you the vase is malachite and the flower with its stem and sepals is alabaster. It is more realistic than a real peace rose. I've never seen anything like this. Boothby would have been proud."

"Commander Hort, I realised that the stone must be alabaster, but can you tell if it came from Earth?"

"It is not from Earth, Admiral, Captain Rollins. Although the localities differ, the chemical composition is identical, otherwise it would not be alabaster and malachite. I've matched it with Earth stone. There's no difference, yet I know this is not from Earth..."

"I thought alabaster was found only on Earth, and mostly in the Ural Mountains of Russia," said Magnus, frowning sharply.

Kathryn nodded in agreement. Her own research had determined the same result regarding the main localities of malachite and alabaster on Earth. The flower seemed to glow more now than it had down on Surra. Perhaps its clinical surroundings were responsible. It appeared a little out of place in the stark surroundings of the Pearston's science laboratory.

"I was under the same impression. Although there are no alabaster and malachite on Surra, it could still have been produced here."

"Correct. The stone could have been brought from another planet, even Earth," responded Magnus.

"There's something else, Commander Hort. I asked also specifically that you check for DNA residue on the sculpture," continued the admiral.

"Indeed, Admiral. Many had handled the sculpture, unfortunately, and the last three hours have been spent isolating them..."

Kathryn's heart was in her throat. She could feel the heat suffuse her as she waited for Hort's revelation.

"I need to know if - "

"I've found a match, Admiral," Hort replied, then looked at Magnus. "Captain, I could not have done this without your help."

"It was nothing, Hort. We need answers."

"Commander, please..."

"Well, the first and most puzzling thing is that the entire sculpture was covered in blood."

"What!?" Kathryn and Magnus cried out simultaneously.

"The piece looked squeaky clean and without dust, but there were traces all over of blood." Kathryn was still gaping when Hort continued, "The blood is not human blood."

She could hear Magnus breathe a sigh of relief. Still, it was puzzling that the stone flower was covered with blood. Was it dipped into it? Did Chakotay, if he was responsible, deliberately do it?

"It was from someone else who handled the flower then," Magnus offered.

"I don't think so," Hort replied, a little absently. He frowned heavily. "But Admiral, it may not be as important as the other clues I found..."

That had her attention instantly. Magnus made a clicking sound with tongue.

"You're going to stand there and withhold information just for the fun of it, Hort?" Magnus asked. Hort looked to Kathryn a lot like Voyager's EMH had whenever he had made an amazing medical breakthrough.

"Admiral, Captain Chakotay did handle this ornament. I cannot determine whether he made it - "

"I am certain that he did, Commander. It's a peace rose and it holds special significance for us..." Kathryn replied.

Magnus nodded in understanding, saying "Captain Chakotay was a very talented craftsman. There is no doubt that he made it. Wherever he is now, I can tell you this was his handiwork. We just need verification."

"Chakotay once made one. He destroyed it because he thought it wasn't good enough. I haven't seen the one he destroyed, but I can tell you that this is superlative work. Every little detail, even the trembling of petals in a breeze... I have not seen anything like this myself."

"That," interjected Magnus, pointing to the rose, "is reason enough to know that Captain Chakotay used this as a message."

"I understand. Then Admiral, could you explain this?"

Hort lifted the sculpture very carefully from its temporary stand. He produced a sharp light and held the sculpture against it.

"I don't see anything, Hort, except that the sculpture is flawless."

"That is just it, Admiral. I thought it was a chip right inside the central tube of the lower part of the vase."

"A flaw?"

"Aye."

"I've heard that some artists create a deliberate flaw of a particularly unique quality as a signature of sorts," offered Magnus, rubbing his chin

Kathryn couldn't remember any artist from Earth's glory period doing that.

"But you said you thought it was a chip, Commander," she said to Hort. "You're thinking it may be something else?" Her heart was thundering. What was it Hort saw?

"How it was done escapes me, Admiral. But look..." Hort shone the light over the section of the vase where the flaw was. "I need your help here... Captain, could you hold this for me?"

When Rollins held the light over the base of the vase, Hort used a magnifier over the lit section. Then he started scanning, projecting the images on the monitor screen. Kathryn gave a little gasp. What they thought was a flaw, was a tiny line of text as yet unreadable, completely undetected by the naked eye. Slowly, Hort adjusted the settings and on the screen they saw first a blur which slowly became clearer and more defined into letters they could discern.

"What the - ?" Rollins said softly.

Kathryn paled, then felt a warmth spread through her. There it was, a message. Suddenly the face of Nu'ara flashed before Kathryn and her enigmatic words finally found meaning. She swallowed, trying hard to contain herself. The three of them looked at the words. From a great distance, far, far over mountain ranges, past planets and stars and sectors, Kathryn seemed to hear Chakotay's voice as she silently read the words.

_The rose of peace I made for you_

_where Empress Mirah rules a few_

Kathryn felt dizzy, the text blurring for the mist that formed in her eyes. The stone flower was made by Chakotay. It was only he who knew the significance of the peace rose for both of them. No other person knew. He had crafted this brilliant artwork. He had always had talent, only he never believed he could do what he had done, perfecting to heaven's door the flower before them. And then he sent this message which, as hard as she found the truth to swallow, meant that Chakotay was imprisoned somewhere.

She wanted to rush out of the lab and search for him; she wanted to find him, find where Empress Mirah - whoever she was - ruled; mostly, the words portended one other magnificent, incredible truth for her.

Chakotay was still alive. She believed it with her heart and soul.

He wasn't dead. For years she had refused to mourn him, even after he was officially declared dead. Her faith that he must still be alive - else how could she have had such persistently vivid dreams of him? - had always been strong and without ceasing. Eventually she and her mother and Adam Ponsonby had been the only ones who believed that somewhere in the universe, Chakotay was alive. Many others had advised her to give up... She pictured Chakotay's face during his last communication from the Serengeti. He had looked clear, excited at the thought of returning home to her. They had had such a short time together. She heard his words...

"First, I must look for a gift for you. I can't come home without bringing you something..."

"Chakotay, you just come home, will you? That will be my gift. I miss you."

"Already?"

"We've only just...you know..." Her words had trailed away. Chakotay's eyes had darkened. They had started their marriage on such a shaky footing and only a month after they married had they consummated their union. He understood. His voice was thick with yearning when he spoke again.

"Maybe I should consider a posting closer to home."

They had never spoken of children. It had been too soon, too fragile a topic to discuss that far into their future. But Chakotay's words had a ring of hope to them.

"Surprise me then, when you come home, okay?"

He never returned.

All she could think of in those early days after his disappearance was the look of tenderness on his face and his reassuring words.

Her mind rocked back to the present when Magnus Rollins touched her arm. She looked at him through the sheen of her tears.

"Kathryn..."

"What is it?"

"There's another message. Hort just focused on another part of the flower. Harder to spot this time. Here, on the smallest petal, along the third vein from the bottom..."

She had to blink before she could focus again. The words bobbed about unevenly, drifting on water, until they remained still.

_"In darkest nights I think of you, _

_the day brings pain in added hue"_

When she could recover sufficiently, she looked at the two men.

"I think he - "

" - is in physical pain." Rollins's eyes had turned dark with concern.

"I must find him, Magnus. I'll leave immediately."

"Kathryn, perhaps some of the preliminary research can be done here," Magnus suggested.

"The shuttle Oregon, Magnus, which you promised me. I cannot waste a single second. I'll do it all on my way - "

"But Kathryn, the Oregon is a type 11 shuttle. I promised _a_ shuttle. What - "

"I have to be prepared for any eventuality, Magnus. And besides, the Pearston has two type 11's."

Rollins nodded and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"I can't talk you out of this, of course, and the Pearston will already be on another mission in about a month's time. The shuttle is equipped for four months interstellar travel..."

"Then all the more reason to take the Oregon. All the data on gems and minerals have already been downloaded to the shuttle's computers."

"You've not changed..."

"What do you mean, Captain Rollins?" Kathryn asked, smiling.

"You're one step ahead of whatever it is you're one step ahead of."

"A unique way of putting it." Magnus frowned heavily. She appreciated his concern. "I've had five hours of waiting for Hort to complete his analysis. I have done the preliminary work," she assured him. "Don't worry, Captain."

"Well, Admiral. We leave Surran orbit in thirty six hours. Hail us if you need anything. And Admiral?"

"What is it, Rollins?"

"Good luck on your search. Bring Captain Chakotay home..."

"I'll tell you this, Rollins: I'll not return to the Alpha Quadrant without my husband."

The shuttle Oregon was a type 11 craft, with warp six capability. Armed with fore and aft torpedo launchers and phaser arrays, Kathryn knew it suited her needs if she should come under attack. She didn't rule out hostile sectors where she might be forced to defend herself.

Her fingers moved deftly over the panelled array of the conn station. Turning once to look at the aft section, she saw the stone flower, secured on a small stand just in front of her sleeping berth. She gave a small sigh. Only two clues and she felt as if she were on a scavenger hunt and Chakotay was the prize. He had really perfected a marvelous sculpture. She thought of the one he had destroyed because he thought he didn't have enough talent. The stone flower was brilliantly made. How could he have had so little faith in himself?

She corrected that thought. The sculpture was the expression of perfection, of supreme faith in his abilities. She had not inspired that confidence. Something else, or someone else, did. The attention to the finest detail on the stone flower told her as much as lack of it did. He had made it for her expressly. Only for her, for she was the only one to whom it could mean anything. Yet, who was the person in whose blood the stone flower had been immersed?

Still, the clues... Somewhere on a planet lived an Empress Mirah. Whoever she was, she must have extreme influence over Chakotay. Now, Kathryn could run freely with the idea that Chakotay was alive. Her hope had flared brightly again. All she had to do now was find her husband, whatever his condition. All she wanted to do was just get him home.

She was heading towards Megiddo, a planet in the Albion Star Cluster, deep in the Gamma Quadrant. Megiddo was where she'd find "The Sculptor". It was the only name in the database for this artist. Admiral Picard had made mention of him during one of the Enterprise's sojourns in the Albion System. The Sculptor was a perfector of rare artistic eggs and the insects and animals of his world. He was reported missing by the High Council of Megiddo, a fact registered on the Gamma Confederation Register for missing persons. There were no records, however, of The Sculptor being found or whether he was dead.

Kathryn shrugged. It was a valuable lead, one she had to follow. She had remained awake for sixteen hours straight the day after she left the Pearston to research the origin of the blood trail. It was Megiddan. Beverly Crusher, the Enterprise's Chief Medical Officer had treated patients on Megiddo during that ship's visit to the Albion Star Cluster. Kathryn found a match with the planet's race by studying the medical records for that world. The Sculptor had to know something. If she could find him, her task of finding the homeworld of one Empress Mirah would be easier.

_The rose of peace I made for you_

_where Empress Mirah rules a few _

It was clear Chakotay meant for her to find it eventually. The message was for her; he had made her a peace rose before. Where was he? Where? She knew that he must be experiencing pain as well. What was it he said in his cryptic message? He could think of her during the night, in the dark hours. Was it so allowed that he could only think of her during those hours? If he could think of her, could it therefore mean any thoughts of loved ones, like wife, mother, family, home? _In added hue_... Daylight but not daylight. Was he inside some facility where he couldn't escape and where day was almost the same as night, except that it registered in some unique way for him, or them? Whatever it was, during the day he was not allowed to think of her. Thoughts of loved ones brought pain... Why would it happen like that?

_"In darkest night I think of you, _

_the day brings pain in added hue"_

Sighing, Kathryn engaged autopilot. Her body was beginning to protest. She had already been awake too long and according to Earth time, it was 0200. She needed rest. In the aft section she sat down on the bunk and rubbed her eyes wearily, then looked at the small shower alcove. On a hook hung Chakotay's burgundy robe. The day before they entered Earth's orbit, she had replicated it for him. Now for this journey and in the hope that she would return to Earth with Chakotay, she had brought along clothing and some of his books.

On a sudden impulse, she got up and buried her face against the robe. It still bore his smell. Memories flooded her, moments when they had been happy, the easy banter between them, the new sense of relief and freedom after their first night of love. They stormed at her, those memories.

"Oh, Chakotay... I miss you so," she whispered, the words muffled in the softness of the garment. For a few minutes, Kathryn sobbed heartbrokenly.

When the tears had dried she prepared for a shower, the exhaustion finally eating into her. With the sonic shower, she felt a little better. Kathryn pulled Chakotay's robe around her, her hands brushing tenderly over the lapels. Lying down on the bunk, she could already feel sleep overtaking her, swirls of mist that were soon too overwhelming to let her stay awake much longer. Her last coherent thought was of Chakotay's smiling face.

Three days later the shuttle Oregon entered the Albion Star System. Contacting the High Council of Megiddo, Kathryn was assured safe passage and would be meeting with one of their representatives. She had been glad that she encountered no hostile species. While she had not been afraid, the Federation being blessedly still within hailing range, the fact that she was traveling alone in a Federation shuttle would have put her at a disadvantage had she encountered any hostilities.

She was dressed in uniform again for the first time since she'd left Federation Space. Checking her sensors, she knew that she would reach Megiddo at 1900 Earth time, although it would be midday on that homeworld.

She felt the old anticipation again of making contact with a race for the first time. She breathed in deeply as she entered co-ordinates for Megiddo's northern continent. Around her it was dark, the shuttle now cruising only at impulse speed. Behind her in the aft section the stone flower stood like a beacon. There was no turning back, no thought of returning without Chakotay. Megiddo was only a lead, but it was something. She prayed she was on the right track. She had already used three weeks of her four month leave of absence. Only twice had she relayed messages to Headquarters, to Magnus Rollins on the USS Pearston and to her mother and stepfather. They had been pleased to hear from her, and more than optimistic when she told them about the stone flower.

Now as she neared the orbit of Megiddo, Kathryn could hardly contain her excitement. She had no room for disappointment. Chakotay was alive somewhere and he was calling her. The only thing Commander Hort had not been able to establish was when the vase and flower had been sculpted; they could glean nothing from scans of it.

"It's as fresh as the day the mineral was mined, Admiral," Hort had told her.

"If that is the case, it's reasonable to assume that the vase must be at least two years old," she had whispered reflectively.

It was the only conclusion she could come to. Chakotay would have wanted to get some word to her as soon as possible. If he started work on the vase in the first year of his disappearance, then it had left the planet more than two years ago. It meant that Chakotay had made other pieces, and that he endured extreme pain. She knew that he would regiment his control. He had done so many times on Voyager; there was no reason to think that he couldn't do it now. Still, she didn't rule out that he - and others - might possibly have been tortured. Somehow, an Empress Mirah had them under some kind of mind control.

Megiddo appeared suddenly, surprising her by its size. It was smaller than Earth, with a green hue. A single belt of asteroids circled the planet.

"Well, here's to Tom Paris," she murmured as she maneuvered the shuttle deftly through the asteroid belt and entered Megiddo's atmosphere minutes later. When she finally touched down on the launching pads just outside the First City, she breathed a huge sigh of relief. Stage one of her search was under way.

She was met by a smiling Megiddan who clasped his hands together and bowed slightly in greeting.

"I am Admiral Kathryn Janeway, of the United Federation of Planets."

"Greetings, Admiral Janeway. I am First Minister Calb. Welcome to Megiddo. I well remember your Admiral Picard."

Kathryn smiled. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she looked up at the tall man. He was Chakotay's height. "I have met Admiral Picard. He sends his greetings."

Calb nodded solemnly, then pointed to another transport. "We must leave for my home."

"First Minister," she started as soon as they were seated in the Megiddan craft, "I am on official business. I am searching for a sculptor..."

"There are only nine master sculptors on Megiddo today, Admiral. Which one do you mean?"

"One who is called 'The Sculptor'."

Calb stiffened. Kathryn felt her neck hair bristle; she was filled with disquiet. She glanced at the First Minister. He knew something, and what he knew didn't bode well, judging by the way his jaw clenched and his lips pursed.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, dreading his answer. She could feel a slight nausea in the pit of her stomach.

"The Sculptor... His name was Raël. He - he is dead, Admiral Janeway." Calb's reaction was too intense to be detached. Disappointment sank deep into her.

"Raël?" she whispered, her own distress evident in the way the name quivered from her lips. She was beset by the prospect of having to turn back. She had been so certain she'd find something, find the Sculptor, Raël, who could lead her to more substantial clues.

Calb said no more as he brought the shuttle down near his abode. They alighted in silence and he motioned that she follow him. She thought he was leaving her alone to deal with her acute disappointment. He was friendly though; she knew her resentment was unreasonable. When they were inside the cool courtyard of his home, he indicated she should sit down. He left her alone after she seated herself on a bench in the shade of a tree, and reappeared minutes later with a woman. The woman's face looked sad, her eyes dark. Her gown was tied at the waist by a chord of silver ribbon.

"This is my bond mate, Ress," said Calb. Kathryn nodded solemnly, feeling close to tears.

"My greetings to you, Ress," she said softly, feeling her voice breaking.

Ress bowed her head slightly and clasped her hands together in the same way Calb had done earlier.

"Greetings, Admiral Janeway. You seek one who is no longer with us," she said by way of explanation.

"Yes, I - "

"Raël was our son, Admiral."

"Your - your...son?" she asked, a little stunned. It explained Calb's reaction in his transport when she questioned him about The Sculptor.

"We have lodged his disappearance with the Gamma Quadrant Confederation, but we have not told them that our son was returned to us. He was already dead when he was brought here, Admiral."

"H-how?" she stammered.

"Raël was at the Convention for Art and Culture in our First City when he disappeared mysteriously," his mother said quietly, her voice filled with sadness, yet dignified. "He was very talented in the field of stone sculptures of the insects and animals of our world, and also produced beautiful, ornate eggs..."

Calb had disappeared into the house again and out of the corner of her eye, she watched him as he returned with something in his hand. It was a sculpture of an animal that looked to Kathryn like Earth's mongoose, when she got a closer look at it.

"This is Megiddo's fastest animal, Admiral Janeway. It is called the _shebre_. Raël was a master craftsman, the best in his field on Megiddo."

Like the stone flower of Chakotay, the sculpture of the _shebre_ looked so real that for a few moments Kathryn was stunned. She had only the mongoose of Earth as frame of reference, but the hairs on the animal appeared to bristle, its eyes seeming to dart excitedly. Kathryn shook her head. Raël was a very talented man.

"Your son was gifted," she said, her voice filled with awe.

"He was, Admiral Janeway," Ress replied with pride. "We...miss him."

"You - you say as well that his body reappeared here mysteriously."

"Yes, right to this courtyard. It seemed almost as if his last wish had been to be here, in his home. Only, he was dead. It was very strange indeed."

"Why did you seek him, Admiral Janeway?" Calb asked.

Kathryn sighed. Raël was dead. He couldn't tell her anything now, not anymore.

"I wished to learn from him the whereabouts of another who is also a gifted sculptor," she replied. "My husband also went missing, three years ago. I thought that Raël could lead me to him."

"What little we know, Admiral, we will share with you. We are sorry that your husband is also missing."

"When we found our son's body here in our courtyard, we also found something else." Something clicked in Kathryn's head. A blinding flash. It was the only way it could have been done if it had to be done secretly. She sensed what Ress was going to say. "Inside Raël's body was hidden a sculpture."

"Inside him?" Kathryn thought it was highly covert, but it also explained the blood traces on the stone flower. Raël had died and somehow, Chakotay had found a way to get the sculpture off the planet where they were held. He used Raël's body as a carrier. It meant that there were definitely more than two persons wherever Chakotay was kept a slave.

"Yes. We could not understand it, Admiral," Calb added. "No such flower grows on this world. Someone must have put it there. We did not know why. Now, I understand a little better. It was a message, was it not, Admiral?" Kathryn nodded sombrely, but her heart had skipped ten beats since she heard how the stone flower had been carried across at least twenty sectors. "We donated the stone flower to the Arts and Culture Ministry and an off-world traveler bought it from them. We did not wish to be reminded...you understand?"

Something else hit Kathryn like a jackhammer.

"Wait a minute. When you said that your son's body reappeared here in the courtyard, I thought you meant that they had dumped the body here. Are you saying that Raël was transported here?"

"Our sensors indicated a transport had taken place seconds before we found his body." There was a pause, then Calb spoke again. "We tried everything to determine from where his body was transported."

"First Minister, could I do something?" They both nodded. Within seconds, Kathryn used her site to site transporter, locking on to the stone flower that was still in the shuttle. The next moment, Chakotay's stone flower appeared on the bench. Kathryn looked at Ress and Calb. Their eyes lit up in recognition.

"Yes, that is the sculpture."

Kathryn's heart bled for Calb and his wife.

"I have reason to believe," she started, "that thoughts of home and loved ones would have brought pain..."

"We thought so too, Admiral Janeway. One of his friends said on the day Raël disappeared, that his last words had been - "

"That he could be a better sculptor?"

"Yes... How did you know?"

The pieces of the puzzle, many still too haphazard, were slowly beginning to fall into place. It was the words Chakotay's First Officer, Commander Algernon, had relayed to her after they had extensively interviewed the trader in the marketplace where Chakotay had last been seen. Chakotay had apparently whispered the desire to have greater talent...

"It was something my husband wished too, First Minister Calb. I am beginning to believe that whoever expressed the desire to enhance their gifts, whether in words or thoughts, was transported by some means." They were quiet for a few seconds, allowing the new revelation to sink in. Ress hooked her hand through her husband's arm.

"Please, Admiral Janeway, will you join us at our table for a meal?"

Kathryn nodded gratefully, lifting the stone flower carefully. "Tell me," she asked on a sudden inspiration, "do you know who the off-world traveler was who took the stone flower?"

"She did not give her name, Admiral Janeway, but she was a very tall woman with flowing black hair and yellow eyes..."

It couldn't be Nu'ara, but the strange star traveler Yohara Par spoke of could have given it to someone, who in turn gave it to the Arts Exhibition of Surra, where Nu'ara had taken one look at it and gone into a trance...

"I will be here a few days, First Minister - "

"Then you will be our guest, Admiral. We will assist you in anything you wish to know about our son, or to further your search. Perhaps there were many others like your husband and Raël..."

"Thank you. I would like to get in touch with your Science Institute."

"I will arrange that, Admiral. After our meal we will show you Raël's art works."

Kathryn nodded, then proceeded to transport the stone flower again to the shuttle. She gave a deep sigh. She was disappointed to hear of Raël's death, but the new clues were more than she had hoped for and made up for the intense disappointment she'd felt initially. Now that she had the beginnings of an idea, she was anxious to see the Head of the Science Institute and to study Megiddo's star charts.

She was getting closer to Empress Mirah. She was getting closer and her heart was pounding at the thought that she would see Chakotay again.

_I'll see you again... _

TBC Ch 5


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"This is the best I could do for you, Admiral Janeway," said Modral, the chief scientist at the Science Institute. "The rest is up to you."

"Thank you. I have a small lab fitted out in my shuttle. I'll be able to do the configurations there while I travel."

"It is fortunate that we were able to do a full autopsy on Raël's body, particularly the brain patterns. Did you know that areas of his brain were still active like..." Modral paused.

"I know what you mean. It sounds like a reflex action. Much like a ghost limb."

"Ghost limb?"

"In old Earth medical science, patients who had amputations were still able to 'feel' the limb long after it was severed..."

"Yes...then that is it, I suppose," said Modral, still frowning. "I was able to devise a synaptic enhancer based on the movement of Raël's brain patterns in those last moments before they died completely. I am glad that I am able to see the results of the autopsy finally lead to something, Admiral Janeway."

Kathryn nodded, pleased with Modral's work. She had come to the Institute five days ago and given Modral all the specifications of what she needed. Now, the shiny synaptic enhancer - it looked like the one Captain Ransom of the Equinox had used to transport him to any virtual reality - lay on her palm.

"The idea came to me that a similar enhancer had been used on Raël and my husband to control their thought processes. This one you've made, Modral, can be dangerous in the hands of the wrong persons. It will do basically the same thing. I know that there must be a control centre as well, since it must have been activated from somewhere..."

"Or someone..." suggested Modral.

"Yes...or someone."

"Well, Admiral, we wish you well in your search. You will remain in contact with us in the event that you might need additional assistance."

"Yes. Now I must say my goodbyes to First Minister Calb and his wife."

"They accepted the loss of their only child with much dignity, Admiral Janeway. Raël was one of the greatest artists for many sectors. There are nine master craftsmen left on Megiddo, and they are all involved in training up-and-coming sculptors..."

Kathryn's hand closed round the small synaptic enhancer. She gave Modral a final nod, to which he bowed and clasped his hands together in the formal greeting of Megiddo. She looked back only once from Calb's shuttle before she sped off in the distance of the House of Calb. They had given her the _shebre _that their son had made; it was something that would remind her of a young man who had died because he could no longer endure the pain of his memories...

She only hoped that Chakotay was still fighting it...

Promising that she'd pass by Megiddo again on her way home to the Alpha Quadrant, Kathryn left the planet's orbit, again deftly maneuvering the Oregon through the asteroid belt. She began studying the star charts she had been given by the Megiddo Centre for Interstellar Studies.

Her journey to sectors 574 through 593 was the focal point. Mirah had whisked away Chakotay, Raël and others almost the same way that the old Caretaker had done with Voyager, the Liberty and other vessels unfortunate enough to have been targeted for experimentation. Although a synaptic enhancer had been used to control the prisoners - Kathryn thought of them now as prisoners - surely, Empress Mirah's powers were not the same as the Caretaker. She must have used a different method, one that was exceptional enough to have tracked the desires and wishes of the victims over great distances. There must be a control device somewhere, that ultimately had to be destroyed.

The star charts were effective. She could eliminate most planets that had no mountain ranges or natural underground caverns and river systems. Strangely enough, the sectors between 574 and 593 were mostly dead space, as Tom Paris would have said. Few star clusters, with not many homeworlds in their orbits. It was, she decided, a good hiding place. It was no wonder Chakotay's crew and the subsequent Starfleet search parties were found only dead ends. They didn't have much to work with. She didn't blame them, understanding how difficult it had to be, knowing that she herself had all but stumbled onto the first clue. Or, that the first clue came to her in the person of Nu'ara.

The shuttle made good time at warp six towards sector 574. No Federation vessels had traveled here before but data existed, given to the Federation by homeworlds with warp, transporter, and cloaking technology. The shuttle was aerodynamically designed for atmospheric flight, resembling the Delta Flyer a little. It made sense, since Tom Paris had designed the hull of the Oregon. She knew she would make good time getting to the various star systems.

Only ten planets fit the profile Kathryn was looking for. They were all D-Class, as Raël's blood composition showed traces of elements from D-class atmospheres. No doubt it would be in Chakotay's blood too, since it would be in the food they digested, the air that they breathed. The planets all had extensive mountain ranges and underground caverns. Narrowing it down even further, she could look for those worlds that had caves deep inside mountains. On Earth and other homeworlds in the Federation, it was easy to scan for lifeforms hidden under mounds of rocks. Her task would be to breach any protective shielding such formations would have, since the prisoners would be well hidden. It was clear to her that their presence was kept secret, or that they were on a world uninhabited except for Empress Mirah and the sculptors. It was the only way she could possibly operate.

At night, Kathryn worked on the synaptic enhancer. It was intensive work that left her exhausted but still very anxious about Chakotay's fate. She couldn't shake off the anxiety and losing sleep wasn't helping her cause. At 0400 hours most nights, she just tumbled onto the bunk and didn't open her eyes again until the familiar beep from the conn station alerted her to the hour or that she was hailed in order to arrange safe passage for the Oregon. She had lost some weight, and didn't want to look in the bathroom's mirror again, for she knew that her eyes were sunken.

Her task to find Chakotay, to declare over and over her undying devotion to him, kept her driven. It kept her awake, although she was exhausted most of the time and just wanted to collapse into bed and sleep for twenty years.

Engaging the autopilot, Kathryn moved to the tiny alcove where she could conduct her experiments. She gave a tired little chuckle as she remembered her time on New Earth, how Chakotay had stood behind her and massaged her aching neck muscles. It had been a good time there. They had had the opportunity to become greater friends than before and without the burden of their tasks keeping them trapped behind their masks. Then, back on Voyager, things had changed a lot. She freely admitted to being a guilty party in the strained relations between her and Chakotay. Yet, she couldn't ignore his looks in unguarded moments. She had grown to love him, deeply, passionately, but there was always that wall of reserve that kept her from admitting her true feelings to him. She could see the wanting in his eyes, in his stance sometimes, then the sigh of defeat.

Then Seven of Nine happened and she thought that she would lose Chakotay forever. How bitter and hurt she had been. But all that was in the past; she had forgiven him, for she knew that underneath it all, despite the motivation behind his proposal, Chakotay did love her. If anything, he loved her more than ever before and his proposal, when it came, was a desperate, final attempt to get her to commit to him.

She gave another little sigh. They had been so supremely happy before he left on his fateful mission.

She took the enhancer and performed a series of scans. It was going to take some work to modify it to her own specifications.

"Just one week, and this has got to be finished. Maybe even three days..." she murmured as she disassembled the enhancer and exposed the microcell. "Great, just my luck... Now, to figure how I can reverse the electromagnetic impulses..."

Hours later, Kathryn packed up and prepared for bed. Her back and neck muscles ached furiously. Rubbing it just made her miss Chakotay even more. Even in their short time together back home, he had done wonders with his miracle hands. She could feel the onset of a headache. Groaning, she stepped out of the sonic shower. It hadn't brought her the relief she craved. Reaching for Chakotay's robe, she gave a little grimace. Lately she had taken to wearing it every night just before bed. She felt closer to him then and she wished fervently that it was night where he was. Then he could dream of her like he said in his message.

She opted for steaming hot chocolate from the replicator. Smiling a little as she took the first sip, she thought how they had been so conditioned to rations on Voyager, how drinking steaming hot chocolate or eating pecan pie had been luxuries. Now, she had almost unlimited access and could order whatever pleased her. By the time she had finished drinking the warm elixir, her headache had subsided.

A week later, as Kathryn approached sector 574, she was ready to test the enhancer. Modral had built the enhancer based only on the last, degrading brain patterns of Raël, but during the last week, she had worked on modifications.

It was peaceful inside the shuttle; she had encountered no hostile vessels alien worlds. She wore pumps and a gilet over a pair of pants, as comfortable as she could make herself. The small silver device lay on the counter. Kathryn lifted it and attached it to her left temple, then entered a few commands on the computer. She felt a slight whirr as the enhancer was activated. A mirrored enhancer showed on the monitor's screen, with a string of coded colours just beneath it. The colour indigo flashed on and off, to indicate neutral.

Kathryn closed her eyes for a few seconds.

"Now, think of Chakotay... Think of his love for you. Think of how much you love him, of the good memories you have..."

They played out - images of her and Chakotay together. Chakotay's face as he looked down while she still lay in bed and he held a cup of coffee in his hand for her. Chakotay smiling his dimpled smile; his eyes that creased when he laughed. She gave a little sob. The images had never been as clear as they were now. It was as if she could touch him, so close he felt. "I love you so..." the words tumbled from trembling lips.

Then her eyes flew open. On the screen, just below the enhancer, a block flashed bright red continuously. "It's working," she whispered. Her eyes, riveted to the damning flashing red light, welled with tears.

"Now, blink back the tears, Janeway. Think of nothing. Take Chakotay and home and love and happy memories out. Purge them all.. Think of a galaxy of stars, think of neutral things."

Slowly, the red changed to orange, faded quietly until the flashing stopped and the colour was dark blue. Kathryn stared at it for a long time, dispassionately, detached. It stayed blue.

"So that's it... Mirah controls them from a central computer, despite her own powers. Emotion causes brain waves to move in a particular way. No wonder... She could see whenever anyone had dreams of home... Then somewhere she'd set a control that would cause pain..."

Kathryn brought up the red again. Chakotay smiling at her, his hair wet as he stepped out of the shower at their home in Indiana. Kathryn smiled tenderly at the image. Chakotay moving towards her, a gleam in his eyes. She remembered that morning. She had walked into his arms and they had made love again. Her fingers pressed down on a key. Something happened. Like a crack of lightning, sharp pain lanced through her head. She cried out. The lances became a million little tendrils that curled around every nerve cell, pulling them apart. The flash was blinding, the torture unbearable. She gasped, then screamed. Her finger burned into the key that was the source of her agony. A strange lethargy came over her as everything went black and she started to keel over.

She groaned as she came to. The shuttle interior spun madly until eventually the spinning dizziness stopped. Kathryn struggled to her feet, saw the angry red flash had returned to blue. Giving a little sob, she removed the device from her temple and stumbled dazedly back to her bunk. She brushed back a few tears she had been unable to stem; her cheeks were warm and damp as she lay heaving. Slowly her heartbeat returned to normal.

"Oh, my God... So that's what she does to them..."

For a long time Kathryn lay there, her eyes closed, tears seeping from her eyelids and dripping on the bunk. She must have fallen into a slumber, for she woke up with a start. She got up and seated herself at the computer again. Her fingers flew over the panels.

"Now, for the next and final phase..."

Kathryn felt the frustration eat into her for the first time since she'd left Earth. The entire sector 574 had produced nothing. There were worlds that had come tantalisingly close. She had little time to admire the magnificent mountain ranges and investigate the deep underground caverns, as she had done a lifetime ago on Earth and on Mars. Much as she would have liked to explore, her eyes could only skim the surface and impressing on her brain the brief beauty of the magnificent landscapes. The shuttle passed over them, her scans producing no results. Just mountains, some with cave systems that challenged the best Earth had to offer. But no signs of life inside them, no shielding that would have alerted her to some presence in the heart of the mountains. On planets that were inhabited, no one had heard of Empress Mirah; none of those races recorded any of their master craftsmen missing.

She felt dejected as she entered the co-ordinates for the next sectors. Megiddo's star charts were well researched and she'd find the planets easily enough. It was fifteen hours to the Baquad System, deep in sector 590. The planet Kelso was a D-Class world that fitted the profile of her specifications. The synaptic enhancer had been modified, and lay shining on the small counter in the alcove. She had built twenty more of the enhancers in case she needed backup. She sensed that Empress Mirah would not play by any rules.

Now, the black expanse mocked her with its silence. She rubbed her eyes tiredly. She hadn't eaten properly in days. On an impulse she ordered the computer to play some music. Seconds later, the soft strains of a Bach air filled the shuttle. Kathryn rested back against the seat and closed her eyes for a moment. She thought how the last time that air had played, Chakotay had been sitting in an easy chair in their apartment, reading Moby Dick. It was one of the quieter moments they'd shared after the debriefings and celebrations and their promotions. He had looked up when she stopped the music, thinking that it distracted him.

"Hey... Don't stop it. It's beautiful. What is it?"

"Bach's Air in G."

"Any more where that came from?"

She had been so ridiculously pleased. He had only begun to show his interest in music and relied on her own taste in the classics to guide him.

"Concerto for Double Violins... I think you'll like it. Reminds me of us."

"Us? How?" he asked.

"Just listen to it, and maybe you'll get a sense of the 'us'."

Kathryn gave a small cry. Chakotay had never told her whether he liked it. He was gone from her life before they had a proper chance to explore their togetherness and new-found happiness.

"I have to find him... I can't give up. I can feel I'm getting closer..." she murmured into the silence of the shuttle.

Suddenly there was a beep from the conn. She rocked to attention and responded with, "This is Admiral Janeway of the United Federation of Planets..."

A face filled her viewscreen. It was reptile-like in appearance, but it looked friendly. At least, that's what Kathryn thought. He might very well be hostile. He might be "she"...

"Greetings, Admiral. I am Karok of the Mogla Order of Kelso. We have tracked your vessel on our long range sensors. We have been expecting you. What is your business in these sectors?"

"I seek one who is called Empress Mirah..."

Karok was quiet a few seconds as he weighed Kathryn's words. Then he shook his head.

"I am afraid we cannot help you, Admiral. No such person exists in this sector. I have been asked only to relay a message - "

"You have a message for me? But... I have not met anyone from your world before, as I am sure you did not know me until a minute ago..." Kathryn frowned heavily. It was confusing. They weren't going to allow her permission to touch down on Kelso, but they had a message for Kathryn Janeway?

"That is correct, Admiral. We have expected a representative from far lands. Someone not from these sectors, nor from this quadrant. We have been told it would be a small vessel faster than any of our own, and with only one commanding the vessel. I do not know what it means, as I have only been given the order to be the messenger."

Kathryn sighed. For a few maddening seconds she had thought she'd reached the end of her search. Now, yet another message. Was it a cryptic clue like the others? Did Nu'ara have anything to do with this? She wanted to cry out in frustration. Her initial scans of the planet's geomorphology had been negative, but a second look wouldn't have hurt. She swallowed hard to control her runaway emotions. Karok was waiting for her response.

"Well then, if you will tell me what the message is, I'll be on my way..."

Karok nodded.

_"The glow of dying suns my world in red enfold_

_and deep in mountain's bosom beauteous urns lie cold..."_

Kathryn recorded Karok's words as he spoke. She mouthed the words, absorbed every sound and nuance. Her throat constricted and she felt again the old welling of tears.

"I - thank you, Karok."

"It is our pleasure, Admiral. I received the order from our High Council. Our Grand Mogla, who is our spiritual leader, has declared that the words came to him in a vision."

"A vision?" Kathryn blinked.

_Even so, Nu'ara could still be involved somewhere..._

"Yes, Admiral Janeway. The Grand Mogla has asked that the one for whom the message is intended, be protected. That is why your vessel will be followed at a safe distance by five of our own ships. I trust the arrangement meets with your approval."

She was tempted to turn down their offer, but thought that she hadn't duplicated the synaptic enhancers for nothing. Besides, if they offered her assistance, she would be safer if she met some hostile ship on her way to...wherever... The Grand Mogla had certain powers and sensed that she might be in danger at some point. She expelled a little sigh.

"I appreciate the offer. Thank you, Karok."

After communication closed and Kathryn stared at the now blank viewscreen, she sank back against her chair and rubbed her temples.

"Another clue...now what...?

_"The glow of dying suns my world in red enfold_

_and deep in mountain's bosom beauteous urns lie cold..."_

She thought about the words, murmured some phrases over and over.

"Glow of dying suns..." Was the planet red like Mars? Did they look red when the sun set? Then she sat bolt upright.

_Suns..._

"Fool, why didn't you think?" she scolded herself as she started yet another elimination process.

Fingers darted over the keys. "A world with dying suns... How many planets in the remaining sectors could have more than one sun?" Quickly she entered a few commands. The next minute or so, she studied the readings. Ten planets showed more than one sun. Her heart quickened. She gave a light shudder as the excitement built up in her. "God, I hope you meant it, whoever sent this message to Grand Mogla..." she muttered as she looked at ten planets spread over three sectors.

_"Dying suns..."_

"Of course!"

She would thank Megiddo's Presidium forever for supplying her with the comprehensive star charts. Several planets glowed green, those ones, she eliminated, whose suns were all still young. Only one planet... Kathryn swallowed at the lump in her throat. Her eyes were riveted to the screen as the only planet in a binary system in the process of dying, flickered bright yellow.

_They weren't setting suns, but suns dying... _

A few equations later Kathryn made another discovery. A possibility, only to be affirmed when she reached the solar system of that planet.

"In another thousand years... this planet will be no more... It cannot survive if its suns die..."

Kathryn rubbed her cheeks, felt the dampness. Her eyes closed. Whatever the planet yielded, all life, all plants and trees, whatever greatness it had, would be no more, for it couldn't survive without light...

"No light... No light..." A warm tear dropped on her hand. All life must have light. The grass will not grow...

She read the next line from the Grand Ogla's message.

_And deep in mountain's bosom beauteous urns lie cold..._

Kathryn buried her face in her hands. It was getting more and more difficult to understand why Empress Mirah did what she was doing to men and women who had a gift. Her vision was tainted. Her subjects were slaves. Kathryn thought the 'beauteous urns' to be the works of gifted artists that would never see the light. Their beauty would never find resonance in the eyes of anyone who beheld it, for there would be no eye... Kathryn felt the great desolation that the words implied, intense sorrow for works of art that were lost, artists who died before their time... Only one work of art had managed to come from the planet of the dying suns, and that through the tragic death of one who could no longer endure the torture.

Two weeks later Kathryn hailed the small armada of Kelsoan ships that had accompanied her on the journey to Largat, the planet deep in sector 493. She was five light years away, and traveling at warp six would bring her within the orbit of Largat. She wondered idly if Chakotay and the others were aware of where they were. If they were transported directly into the belly of the mountain, and were never allowed on the surface of the planet, it was not likely they knew even the planet's name.

A short beep and the face of the lead ship's commander appeared on her viewscreen.

"We have been wondering when you would hail us, Admiral Janeway," the friendly Commander Bel said. By now she knew that a certain way in which they pulled their faces indicated a smile. A fist pressed against the armoured chest was their form of greeting.

"Greetings, Commander Bel. I will reach Largat in six days' time," she replied. "Your vessels can sustain warp six. Remain within 1000 kilometers until I am in the orbit of the planet..."

"Acknowledged."

"I will contact you again in twenty four hours. Janeway out."

When she closed communication, she breathed a sigh of relief. Relatively speaking, she was almost on top of Largat. Several maddening clues and the enigmatic words of the mysterious Nu'ara and the Grand Mogla later, she was about to investigate the planet. Two suns, only one planet in their solar system. They had encountered a few similar binary systems during their years in the Delta Quadrant, but those solar systems had nine or ten planets.

It seemed the kind of hideout Empress Mirah would have chosen. She was an anomaly, inspiring gifted craftsmen to be more gifted, and keeping them enslaved. The possibility existed that no one outside Largat or the caves inside its mountains would ever be allowed to observe the works of art created there, and a planet which would be dead in a thousand years was the perfect place to do it.

Her journey to this region of the Gamma Quadrant had taken her almost two months, but she had not traveled at warp six consistently, stopping by other homeworlds on her way. When she returned - with Chakotay by her side - the shuttle would sustain warp six in an unbroken journey, and only stop by Megiddo. She had promised Calb and Ress that she would visit them again upon her return and if possible, give them more information about their son Raël. Going home would take six weeks.

Kathryn had no idea what Chakotay's state of health would be, and for that matter, those of the others kept prisoner by Empress Mirah.

"But I must expect a degree of declining health. Most have been on Largat for three years or more..." she murmured.

She decided that she'd don her uniform again when she reached the orbit of Largat. It was better to present a formal front. She turned to the small cabin after engaging autopilot. The familiar grumble in the pit of her stomach reminded her that she hadn't eaten all day. So she replicated her dinner and minutes later, sat and enjoyed her meal while she played soft music to wind down her evening.

Five days later Kathryn entered the orbit of Largat with Commander Bel's armada not far behind.

TBC Ch 6


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Althaea... Rose of Sharon, flower that could exist in harsh conditions. Entirely from memory, Chakotay sculpted the deep red bloom with its yellow stamens, soft green sepals and stem. If he just breathed close to the sculpture, it seemed as if the petals trembled in the breeze. He was satisfied with his work, glad that it was finished, for he already had another idea for a small flower head that consisted of ten individual purplish-blue flowers.

It was quiet, for evening had begun. The caverns were bathed in a soft orange-yellow glow. He was tired, having almost passed out twice during the day thinking of Kathryn; now he wanted to speak with some of the men who had become unconscious this afternoon. One of them was Kraf. He could understand that Kraf would succumb. The Naïdan was already an old man who missed his wife and children and grandchildren. Kraf and the others needed his counsel; to them he was their leader, their Maestro. He could talk with them and they'd find the strength to carry on another day, even brave Mirah's torture

During the night, Mirah vanished as stealthily as she appeared during the day. The central control room was some distance away from them, with invisible threads that tripped the security systems the second they came to within a metre of it. They had tried many times to breach the security, with no luck. Most evenings, the artists suffered from residual pain caused by the enhancers, and it took a while before the pain left them completely. The steel devices couldn't be removed. The very contemplation of that action, and the touch of fingers on the cold steel caused excruciating pain.

Chakotay took one last look at the Althaea before he walked to his sleeping quarters to shower and get ready for bed. He was in no mood for the entertainment Mirah offered during the evenings for them. He remembered Ocampa, and how the Ocampans could look at images on a giant viewscreen that were soothing, winding-down images. Here Mirah had produced something similar and some evenings, when he couldn't sleep, he would sit in the large room and view the images of clouds, sunsets, trees.

They had no reading material. He had not read anything in three years or listened to any music either. Little bits of poetry came to him, but he couldn't pen a single line, as he always told Kathryn. Only one poem he'd committed to memory. Soon after he married Kathryn, he had searched the database for a poem that he liked and that suited him. He remembered those words as clearly as if they were written on his brain...

_It was always dear to me, this solitary hill, _

_and this hedgerow here, that closes out my view, _

_from so much of the ultimate horizon. _

_But sitting here, and watching here, in thought, _

_I create interminable spaces, _

_greater than human silences, and deepest _

_quiet, where the heart barely fails to terrify. _

_When I hear the wind, blowing among these leaves, _

_I go on to compare that infinite silence_

_with this voice, and I remember the eternal _

_and the dead seasons, and the living present, _

_and its sound, so that in this immensity _

_my thoughts are drowned, and shipwreck seems sweet _

_to me in this sea. _

They were isolated inside the mountain, closed off from the rest of the universe. Sometimes, he felt stifled by the claustrophobic atmosphere. Then on some nights, he would recite the words of the poem, or think about the words. It was always true, the thought came to him. No matter where he found himself, he could create the interminable spaces the poet spoke of. Then he could hear the wind, or hear the noise of the great oceans, the sound of rain. He could stand on Vulcan and admire its beautiful sunsets, or watch the lava flow of Kronos's underground caverns.

He sighed. He was not a poet, but admired the works of others. He was already imbued with the enhanced gift of creating the most beautiful flowers. Lately, he had tried to make a _shebre, _and although it was good, the late Raël was the real master.

He stopped abruptly as he reached the entrance to his small abode. A man sat on one of the stools, his stance one of dejection. He was also clutching the sides of his head.

"Kraf, what are you doing here?" Chakotay asked as he entered his cavern.

"I wish to talk with you, Maestro. I cannot endure it any longer. I have no strength..."

Kraf had been sitting in semi-dark and when Chakotay pressed a panel, the entire cave, partitioned into two rooms, lit up. Only now could he see the wildness in Kraf's eyes, the perspiration, the trembling hands, the sign of extreme pain.

"It is only your residual pain now. It will ease off in an hour..." he replied, as he pulled up a stool and seated himself opposite Kraf.

"I know that, Maestro..."

"You are much older, Kraf. Do not call me Maestro." Chakotay smiled as he said the words, reaching to hold Kraf's hands.

"That may be so. But without you, many would have died. We recognise your leadership, Maestro."

"But..._Maestro_?"

"Ah, that is because you are the highest of the high here. Do not take away from any of your own abilities, or speak so little of them."

Chakotay felt chastised by Kraf's words, but he did not resent it. He had thought many times how Kathryn also encouraged him, even when he felt he couldn't ever be good at what he was doing. She always said that no person who could draw, or paint, or make music, should demean what they had.

"I understand, Kraf. Now, you wished to speak with me..."

Kraf looked really ill. Chakotay sensed what Kraf would say. This afternoon he had stayed with the Naïdan an hour after he had regained consciousness. Kraf had been distraught and Chakotay had tried to control his anger, for Mirah had just watched them and curled her lips in derision. He remembered thinking that Mirah was up to something. Kraf pulled his hands away and began wringing them. His knuckles were knotted; the kind of stonework Kraf he was doing became increasingly demanding. Chakotay, his anger abating as his concern for Kraf grew, waited for the old man to speak.

"My life is nearing its ending, Maestro," he began. "I do not know how much longer I will be able to come back every time I have lost consciousness... My body is weakening..."

"Kraf, what are you saying? No one has been ill all this time, except for the - "

"Yes, I know that. But I feel it here..." Kraf pointed to his chest. "I have not much time left. I wish to be buried on my homeworld - "

"Listen to me. One day, we will be rescued. I am convinced of that."

"H-how?" Kraf asked, his eyes a little more alive than they had been when Chakotay had come in. Chakotay cursed inwardly. So little was needed to let hope flare. "Do you know of some way?"

"One who died - "

"Raël of Megiddo..."

"Yes," replied Chakotay, unable to keep himself from smiling at Kraf's designation for young Raël. It sounded like Periander of Corinth, Simon of Cyrene, Anne of Cleves... "Yes...Raël of Megiddo. He had been punished severely. He missed his parents too much for he loved them beyond his life. You know the many times he defied Empress Mirah..."

"What about Raël, then?" asked Kraf.

"When he died, I was the only one allowed by his bedside, do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember. Empress Mirah allowed no one else near the sick man."

"I smuggled out one of my pieces, sewn into Raël's body..."

"Maestro?"

"I am sorry that I did not tell you of this sooner. It was best not to tell anyone, for not knowing was also a way in which I protected you all. Do you understand that, Kraf?"

"Yes...yes, I...understand, Maestro. I do not wish to know how you managed to get it past Mirah. But now I feel weak. My body will be - "

"You will not die, Kraf. Listen to me. I entered flaws - messages - on my stone flower, hoping that it would lead to my homeworld or people from my homeworld. They will come..." Kraf's eyes widened at his words and he stared open-mouthed at Chakotay. Chakotay frowned. Kraf was extraordinarily surprised at his revelation. "Why, are you surprised that I could smuggle a stone flower out of here?"

"You _deliberately _flawed your stone flower?"

He had surmised wrong... Chakotay shook his head and smiled.

"Didn't I once say that an insignificant little flaw can increase the value of a sculpture?"

Chakotay thought how paradoxical it sounded. Never was a stone flower or anything that he created as important as the one he'd smuggled out of the caves. The words that had come to him in those days... It felt as if a higher power had put them in his heart and mind, that confident fingers could relay the poetic beauty of them. Even if he wanted to write a straight message, it was not to be. Something had taken hold of him... In the end, he could not even remember what he had written, except that he knew it was a distress signal and that eventually, it would be discovered.

He didn't want to tell Kraf that he had already been declared dead, or missing in action, presumed dead by the Federation. It was a procedure that was followed. He had been gone three years. Some of the inmates had been in the mountain for longer than that. He prayed that his stone flower, flawed in its flawlessness, would reach Kathryn. If no one else could find him, she would. Chakotay closed his eyes briefly. His flower had gone out almost two years ago... If someone didn't come, they'd be here forever in an eternal cycle of creation with no one to see them or their work; Kraf would be dead by then...

He hoped. He felt it in his bones. They would come. Mirah's prisoners would be rescued.

"They will rescue us? I will then be able to go home? See my children and all my grandchildren?"

Chakotay bit his lower lip to stifle the angry expletive at Mirah's treatment of them. Kraf's resurging hope was so palpable, so infectious, so easy to destroy. All he wanted was to be back with his family again. Chakotay thought how no one could know where they were, even if their families searched high and low. They would never find this place. All of them had been transported, whisked to this mountain the same way the Caretaker had done with the crew of Voyager and the Liberty.

"Kraf, you will survive this. Bear with me, hope with me. I know it is very difficult during the day. I will be near you whenever you fall."

Kraf smiled for the first time. The last vestiges of residual pain had gone. His eyes were clear now, a little more alive.

"Maestro! You are truly great. I live in the hope that I'll see my people again one day."

Chakotay nodded. He felt humbled by Kraf's faith in him. He was pensive as he watched Kraf leave. Their time here had taught him many things. Family ties were of paramount importance to all the prisoners. None of them had stopped longing to see their people again. That was clear by the number of craftsmen who lost consciousness as a result of the intense pain, on an almost daily basis. He himself had given in a few times.

He drew in his breath and expelled it slowly. Something had to happen, and soon. Kraf was nearing the end of his endurance, and one or two of the older women were also showing signs of breaking.

"Kathryn... I'm waiting for you..." he whispered to himself, as he turned and walked into his abode. In his bedroom against the wall, he had made a drawing of Kathryn. He didn't think it looked like Kathryn, but it was good enough. As long as he thought of the face in the drawing as Kathryn, he could talk to her, even touch her. He touched the drawing reverently.

"I know you'll come..."

It was early morning in the Mountain of the Caves, as Chakotay and the rest of the prisoners had come to call it. Most were already busy at their work stations. He had gone to Kraf and made sure the old man was settled in. A short session, in which he trained Kraf to channel his thoughts away from home and family, had left the Naïdan looking well, with clear eyes.

Back at his own station, he studied the Althaea again, contemplating whether he should make any changes. He touched a petal gently, careful not to cause breakage. It was fragile, at odds with the fact that it was such a hardy flower that could survive adverse conditions. It was Tuvok who had told him it was called the Rose of Sharon.

"But it's commonly called a hibiscus," he remembered the Vulcan's words.

"Hibiscus? But that has the appearance of an orchid."

"You may be forgiven for thinking that," the Vulcan had replied, "but no, an orchid it is not. This is an Althaea, or 'The Rose of Sharon'."

Tuvok studied and cultivated orchids. He would know. It was that conversation that inspired the

creation of the Althaea. Now, the flower was completed and he had chosen a petrified wood vase. The vase shone darkly, almost black and Chakotay made a little sound of satisfaction. This was good, but not better than the first peace rose he'd smuggled out of the caves. He gave a wry smile. That would always be his standard.

"You are thinking that you could not better your first stone flower," the voice of Empress Mirah intruded on his thoughts. He sighed.

"Yes, that will always be the benchmark for everything I've done after that," he said without looking at her.

"Your flower trembles in the breeze..."

"I strive for perfection, Empress."

Only then he looked up. She was tall, her skin tone almost the same as his. Her eyes glowed dark green. Her headgear, resembling something queenly, looked like the traditional headgear of ancient oriental women. She was extremely slender and the long gown she wore was tied at the waist by an ornate gold cord with tassels at the ends. Funny how he thought of the gown as ancient Greek. Along the bottom edge was a design that appeared familiar. On all her fingers she wore ornate rings. She pointed a finger at him.

His heart sank. He was about to be accused of something. He had seen her gesture like that at many of the others, who subsequently fell to the ground and writhed in pain.

"Perfection, Danila?"

"My name is Chakotay," he emphasized. Where, he wondered, did she get the name of Danila?

"Chakotay, then. Your stone flower...the first one you smuggled out of my kingdom, was flawed."

He drew in his breath sharply, turning cold at her words. Mirah knew about the sculpture. The one he had made secretly hadn't thrown her off the scent. He should have known he couldn't get away with it.

"Then I am not so perfect after all."

"Why did you use Raël, Chakotay? Did you think that I would not know?"

"Forgive me, Empress. I wished to send something for his grieving family."

"Then you would have sent them a _shebre_. You do not fool me. You sent a message, or you hoped that your sculpture itself would be a sign..."

Chakotay rose to his feet and faced Mirah. Already, he could feel the soft whirr of pain lances in his head. Why Mirah only confronted him with it now, or let him harbour the illusion that he had successfully foiled her, he couldn't understand. Was he right last night when he thought that Mirah was up to something?

"I can assure you - "

"What was the message you sent, Chakotay?" Mirah's voice became soft and steely, her eyes turning from green to yellow. They bore into his brain. He sagged to his chair, using his hands to stabilise himself. He refused to cry out.

"I know nothing of a message. I tell you that I don't know."

"You do not know, or you do not remember?" Another blink of her eye, and it felt as if something exploded inside his head. He couldn't understand Mirah's vindictiveness this morning. She had never tortured him directly like he had seen her do with some of the others. He was appointed by her to keep a watchful eye over the others, to counsel where necessary. Why was she targeting him suddenly? Another spear of her eyes and this time he cried out in agony. "Do you remember a message?"

Then the pain stopped abruptly. He looked at her with dazed eyes.

"I don't remember, I swear. Do you hear me!" He couldn't remember. What he'd wanted to write in his message was something else - his own, plain, unvarnished words. But he had been overtaken by a power that he couldn't, for the life him, describe. It was a feeling of being filled with heaven for a fleeting moment, and that moment had been so fleeting that it was gone before he could harness it. No, the exact words he engraved into his stone flower were lost from his memory.

Another probing spear, and the world started spinning as the pain boiled inside his head. He sank to his knees, groaning. The enhancer whirred incessantly. Then it stopped again suddenly. He was pulled to his feet. On the fringes of his consciousness he could hear the other artists' voices, moving in their direction. Mirah stood about a metre away from him, her arm outstretched, the pointing finger about to poke his eye out.

"You do not know," she said accusingly.

"I told you I don't know!" he bit out. He wanted to add "witch", but knew another salvo of pain would cripple him. "What did you think, Empress Mirah?"

"I wanted to establish that you did not know the contents of the message you engraved into your stone flower. How you could not know that, is impossible...impossible... I am the only power..."

He sighed, turning cold at her words. She knew he'd managed to get a message out. Something was afoot. Something serious enough that Mirah would want to torture him now, two years after the incident. Why did she wait so long?

"Why? You have kept us all here against our will. You got what you wanted. Do you think any of us wanted to be here? Why, Mirah? Men and women express wishes, maybe because they are hidden desires, but not with any kind of regret about them. I have always known my worth, same as everyone here, and we have learnt to deal with our limitations. I guess you can't understand that."

"But you have all benefited from the enhanced abilities I have given you. You have all transcended your own capabilities. All that you have dreamed of, to be the best in your field, to be the most gifted...that is now part of you. You cannot say or deny that what you have achieved here, was not to your liking or to the highest demands you have set yourself. You can see the hairs of the _shebre _lifting as your very breath touches it. Your own stone flowers... they have become the embodiment of all the truth and beauty that man has always deemed to be unattainable..."

"But they are false expectations, false realisations, don't you understand? When we leave here, we leave with what we came."

It seemed Mirah was about to shoot another salvo of pain darts at him. Her eyes sparked dangerously.

"I gave you what you desired!"

"Wrong, Mirah! You kept us here to fulfil your own fantasies. You wished to see the highest expression of art and keep it to yourself, to serve your own selfish needs - "

"How dare you!" He didn't care anymore. Something exploded in his head. He sank again to the ground, but Mirah pulled him to his feet. He saw her through glazed eyes. He struggled to focus and as the pain receded, her face came into sharp relief again.

"Something's happening, Mirah. What is happening?"

Even through the pain, he didn't want to alert her to the fact that help could be on its way for them. It would give her an advantage and let her prepare for it. Mirah pushed him away from her with such force that in his weakened state, he was unable to prevent himself from falling. His head hit the table. A sharp pain and then everything went black.

He groaned as he came to, rubbing the back of his head. Mirah stood over him. The water that splashed him was ice-cold and he gave a sudden gasp before sputtering. Chakotay heard the others. They were in pain. The enhancers were on high red at full power. He closed his eyes again. Kraf wasn't going to make it. The two older women...

"Switch it off, Mirah..."

"No. Not until you tell me whom you called for help."

"So help is on its way." Despite the pain, his heart lurched with a wild joy. Someone was coming...

"The entire planet is surrounded by a security grid. This mountain is protected."

He didn't want to tell her that if Kathryn Janeway was in orbit of the planet, there would be nothing that could prevent her from breaching the planet and the mountain's security. The control room would be Kathryn's target. That is, if it was Kathryn lurking outside...

"Believe me, Mirah, it's going to happen. They will breach security, whoever it is. I called no one. Whoever found the stone flower, was supposed to admire its beauty."

"Fool! You will all die now!"

Mirah turned and disappeared. Chakotay knew that the only natural power she had was telepathic, and only in so far as she could sense a person's personal desire for increased artistic creativity. And that, only when the individual was standing near any work of art. That was the one thing all the artists had in common. He sighed. It was human nature to want to be good, or better than good or to dream of a talent if he didn't have one. Talent and artistry were always admired and proficiency, the natural and instinctive ability to synchronise eye and line and movement into symmetry, was what many wished for, but most made peace with themselves. Mirah had the ability to sense that, and to empower them with more. Then, she could also transport at will those she didn't need. Like Raël...

Mirah had left them alone for the moment at least. Chakotay virtually crawled his way towards Kraf's workstation. Kraf lay on his side, writhing with pain.

"Kraf..."

"Maestro... I - am - dying..." the man gasped haltingly.

"No, Kraf. Help is on its way. Mirah cannot fool me. I know her. She is annoyed that someone or a search party has found this place. Her sensors must have picked up the presence of a vessel or vessels..."

Kraf turned his head slowly. His normally dark features were even darker, and his face appeared swollen. Chakotay's heart sank at the way Kraf clutched his chest.

"I cannot anymore..."

"Kraf, listen to me. I know who is coming to help us. Don't worry - "

"You - you...know?"

"Yes. Her name is Kathryn Janeway and she is on her way here... Just bear the pain a little longer..."

Chakotay sighed with relief when the intensity of the enhancer lessened considerably. Mirah was probably too busy figuring out who was about to breach the planet's firewall. Kraf relaxed a little, and Chakotay helped him to his feet.

"I will try, Maestro... I will think of my mate and my children who are all waiting for me. I will endure the pain..."

Kraf touched the enhancer, then his hand slackened. Chakotay took a deep breath. His own pain had lessened too. He made his way to the next workstation. Amrah lay on the floor. He always thought she looked Cardassian.

"How are you doing?" he asked as he lifted her to her feet. She gave a little moan before sitting down on her chair. She worked in a medium using a form of clay, endemic to her homeworld. Clay figures representing life-like images of children lined her counter.

"Do you know, Maestro," she said heavily as pain ravaged her features, "that I was never as good at making figures of children and the expressions on their faces as I am now?"

"You were always good, Amrah. You just didn't believe in yourself."

Chakotay thought of that day when it was Kathryn's birthday and of the peace rose he'd destroyed. He hadn't believed in himself either. Amrah was gifted. One face looked as if heartache emanated from the core of the clay.

"These," she pointed to three clay figures, "are my children..."

"And you shall see them soon."

"Maestro?"

"Help is on its way. I know it in my heart."

"I do not mind if I lose my abilities. It means nothing to me if I cannot see my family again. And you, Maestro?"

He was pensive for a moment, thinking about Kathryn and ignoring the heat in his brain.

"I did not have family for a long time, Amrah. On my homeworld, everyone was murdered. I lost my whole family..."

"There was war?" Amrah asked.

"Aye. Then I met someone. She became my life. Her family became mine..."

"You miss her..."

"She is the breath of my life. For her, I will endure torture until I am dead."

TBC Ch 7


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

As Kathryn Janeway expected, Largat, only planet in the binary system, was protected by a forcefield that covered the entire planet. The Oregon would be turned to cosmic dust trying to barge a way through. Fortunately, the forcefield was layered in grids, which were the most vulnerable at the joints. To the Oregon at least. There was no other life on the planet, save for those souls buried in the belly of the mountain.

Only minutes earlier she had hailed Commander Bel of the lead Kelsoan ship. They were now close to the Oregon.

"We cannot breach the grid, Admiral Janeway. Our vessels will be destroyed."

"We'll find a way, Bel. I've located weaknesses in the forcefield. I'm working on it right now. Remain in orbit until I give the signal."

Now she worked furiously to create a tear in the forcefield along the planet's equator. For once, she was glad that the Oregon was fitted with a small phaser bank and torpedoes. If she could convert the phaser fire to an elongated beam of energy that would make no burn and at the same time neutralise a section of the grid...

Kathryn remembered the work Seven of Nine had done on Ketarcha Prime. A thought came to her. Seven had been particularly proud of her work and had given the Federation a full report on the atmospheric grid she had constructed for Ketarcha. They could create thoroughfares for their vessels during their persistent ion storms. The Ketarchans could control the apertures from a control centre on the planet. Here , she could adapt Seven's calculations and create an opening directly from the Oregon.

About two hours later, Kathryn cursed in frustration. Twenty simulations and still no luck as the apertures narrowed too quickly for the larger Kelsoan vessels to pass through. Sighing, she continued the simulations, reconfiguring the beam relays until finally, she gave a silent whoop of success. Right at that moment she received a hail.

"Bel to Admiral Janeway - "

"Janeway here. What is it, Bel?"

"We've located the central control room, Admiral."

"Good. Our first order of business is to destroy it. The planet has no weapons systems other than the security grid and shields."

"Have you had any success with the aperture?"

"Yes. Just give me five minutes."

"Aye, Admiral. Bel out."

Kathryn looked at the simulation again. The aperture was large enough for the largest of the Kelsoan vessels to pass through undetected. The next moment, another beep, but this time her screen changed to a schematic of the mountain and the area where the control centre was located. Bel had transmitted it to the Oregon. Kathryn's eyes narrowed as she looked at the mountain. As she had suspected, there was a shield cover.

"We'll have to shoot a hole in the shielding before we can neutralise the control centre," she murmured to herself.

Seconds later, she was on audio link with Bel.

"I'm ready. The second we're through, three of your men will transport to this vessel. Then immediately after, we raise shields. The grid might narrow just before the last ship has passed through."

"By that time, Empress Mirah will have no time to regroup if she senses our tampering. We are ready on your command, Admiral. Bel out."

Kathryn started the firing sequence, smiling grimly as she watched how the phaser shafts hit the grid. Holding position for several minutes, the gap appeared, growing steadily bigger. There was no sound and Kathryn knew that Empress Mirah must be unaware of what was happening. There were no counter actions as yet and was relying heavily on the element of surprise. Mirah would only know the moment they approached to the surface of Largat. Her heart raced as the hole was finally large enough.

"Janeway to Bel."

"Bel here."

"We're going through. Beam your men over."

A second later three Kelsoan warriors appeared in her shuttle. She nodded quickly to one of them to take the co-pilot's seat.

"Your name?"

"Alberon."

"Well, Alberon, piloting this shuttle is easy. You know what to do."

"I've done the simulations," he said, giving her a smile.

She moved the shuttle slowly to the aperture and slipped through. On her viewscreen, she could see the other vessels come through one by one. Once all the ships were through, Kathryn looked at the other two Kelsoan warriors.

"You'll need this," she said quickly and attached synaptic enhancers to their temples. Then she attached her own. She grimaced a little at the shock of the cold steel against her skin. "Now, you've been briefed for this. Be careful..."

"Yes, Admiral," they chorused, slapping a fist against the chest as sign of acknowledgement. She was armed with a phaser as well as her compressor phaser rifle. The warriors were going to carry the rest of the equipment. She felt safe knowing that the five vessels were not far behind.

"All three of us will beam down at once," she said as they stood on the small transporter pad of the shuttle. "Alberon, on my mark...now," she ordered.

Seconds later they were on the surface of the planet, looking at a mountain peak. It was bright sunlight and they had to shield their eyes against the glare. A quick scan revealed the mountain's height at 3000 metres, with an extensive system of caverns. Its shielding was nothing that the Kelsoan vessels couldn't blast through... By this time several of the crew of the Kelsoan vessels had also beamed down, armed and ready.

"Janeway to Bel."

"Bel here."

"All vessels on alert. Standby to fire at the given co-ordinates to neutralise the shields. On my mark...now!

They watched as all five vessels fired simultaneously.

"Janeway to Alberon."

"Alberon here."

"Three to beam to these co-ordinates," she commanded, as she relayed the co-ordinates to him. Moments later they beamed inside, finding themselves in a large cavern. She saw the control centre instantly. But, a tall, very thin woman was waiting for them. Janeway knew it was Mirah. She wore a queenly head-dress.

"You are intruders," she barked. Then she pressed something. Janeway and the two Kelsoan warrior remained where they were, showing no reaction. Mirah pressed again. "What - ?"

"Surprised, Empress Mirah? We are protected by our enhancers. The same thing your prisoners are wearing."

"But - "

Janeway nodded to the two warriors who dashed forward, and before Mirah could do anything more, they caught her. Kathryn stepped up to her and tapped her enhancer.

"I reconfigured these to repel your own. We don't feel anything."

Meanwhile the rest of the Kelsoan troops arrived and two of them fired at the control centre. Mirah screamed as she realised that they'd neutralised her completely. Kathryn had been prepared. She secured a device to Mirah's temple.

"Who are you?"

"Admiral Kathryn Janeway. You have my husband prisoner here."

"He smuggled the stone flower out - "

"Just so you can't transport yourself at will," Kathryn said. She tapped in a few commands on her tricorder, and a faint whirring sound could be detected. Kathryn nodded to one of the warriors. "Bagur, you're in charge here. Make sure she doesn't get away - "

"Yes, Admiral," he replied.

Kathryn left Mirah with the two warriors, who held on to her while the rest of the men followed Kathryn from the control room. Now her tricorder picked up the presence of Chakotay quite easily.

"There are fifty prisoners here," she said quickly as she turned to look at the men. "I detect them in various caverns. Spread out in pairs and bring them out to the main cavern. They may need medical assistance."

Her heart was thumping wildly as she rushed in the direction where Chakotay was. The signals became stronger and stronger. She walked briskly for about three hundred metres until she spotted a very large cavern, where there were numerous partitions. It had to be their work stations, she surmised.

"Chakotay...?" Her voice was soft, but urgent.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the others moving about as they searched for the survivors. She stopped by a workstation, larger than the others. On a counter she saw a stoneflower. It beckoned her, the red blossoms.

"Rose of Sharon..." she murmured as she attempted to touch it.

"It will break if you do..."

Chakotay...

Kathryn froze for a few heartstopping seconds, her hand still outstretched towards the flower. His voice sounded strange in the echoing cavern, but it was his. A voice she hadn't heard in more than three years. A desperate attempt not to burst into tears, to remain collected as she turned around to face him.

Somewhere, from another realm maybe, Kathryn had heard his words as he read from his favourite poem to her one evening in Indiana, lying on a deep piled rug in front of a blazing fire.

_I remember the eternal _

_and the dead seasons, and the living present, _

_and its sound, so that in this immensity _

_my thoughts are drowned, and shipwreck seems sweet _

_to me in this sea. _

'God, he looks so tired'. His hair was long, hanging past his shoulders. His eyes were sunken. There was the enhancer attached to his temple as she had suspected.

"Chakotay..."

She walked slowly forward and into waiting arms that enfolded her with such tenderness that the first tears rolled unbidden down her cheeks. She could feel how his lips pressed against her hair. He trembled as he held her; she clung to him, absorbing once again his nearness. Then she looked into his face. His fingers came up and caressed her cheek, wiping away the dampness, tracing the outline of her lips. He frowned as he touched her temple. His eyes looked tired, heated. He had suffered. Three years of constant pain. How had they survived?

"Kathryn..."

"I couldn't accept that you were dead," she whispered hoarsely. "Just couldn't."

"Every day, I thought about you. I thought about home and coming home one day to you." He pulled her back gently into his embrace again, but the action was brief. He held her away from him. She saw the question in his eyes.

"We have neutralised Mirah, for now," she said.

Chakotay nodded, then turned to look at the activity in the passageways. He was worried about the rest of the prisoners. When he moved, she followed him. At the end of their corridor, he stopped. A man was lying on the floor. Kathryn rushed forward and bent down, flicking on her tricorder.

"He's still alive, Chakotay."

"It's Kraf," he said by way of explanation. "He is very weak." Chakotay lifted the unconscious man in his arms. Kathryn thought how weak Chakotay himself appeared, but he held the sick man comfortably. She pointed in the direction of the control centre and he followed her; they moved briskly. "The enhancers may be deactivated, but there is residual pain," he said as they walked. "Kraf needs medical attention. Mirah knew something was going to happen. She - "

"Turned the enhancers to high?"

"Yes..."

They were stopped by one of the Kelsoan warriors, who relieved Chakotay of the unconscious Kraf and ran towards the control centre. Chakotay breathed a sigh of relief when Kraf's weight was taken off.

"We've brought medical supplies. The Kelso contingent will be looking after the prisoners. I've also ordered them to collect the art works of the sculptors."

Chakotay stopped in his tracks. For the first time since she entered the caves, she saw how he had trouble swallowing, and his eyes looked red, as if he wanted to cry.

"What were the words that I engraved on the stone flower, Kathryn?"

She froze, then frowned heavily. How couldn't he know what he had written?

"You don't know?" she asked. "Magnus Rollins's Science chief established they were written by your hand, that you, in fact, did handle the stone flower. We found traces of human DNA - yours - on it, as well as blood..."

"I wrote, but it was a strange power... Kathryn, it was as if something came over me, controlled my thoughts and my hands. What I thought I wrote was not what I wrote. I don't know what the actual words were... Sometimes I had these visions that I was sending you messages. Deep in the night, I would lie awake and think of you or I dreamed them... I don't know..."

Kathryn took his hand. He looked so completely confused that she wanted to cry. She felt like crying herself, for she was certain now that he not only wrote the words that were written on the stone flower, but that all the other cryptic messages must have come from him as well. But now was not the time to reason about scientific facts and evidence or conjecture about magic and strange events and telepathic communication. It was something she had accepted, for if she hadn't it might never have led her to Chakotay.

"Chakotay," she said softly, "we need to get you out of here. We will talk about this, I promise. Right now, you need medical attention." She took his hand and led him to the control centre, where all the others waited. Chakotay ran first to Kraf , who had regained consciousness.

Kraf looked at him with grateful eyes.

"Maestro... I will see my people again..."

"You will, Kraf. You will. Everything is over now. No pain, okay?"

Then Chakotay very carefully removed Kraf's synaptic enhancer. Kathryn saw how the old man's eyes first showed fear at the touch, then the realisation sank in that no pain accompanied the removal of the torture device. Kraf gave a deep sigh, and closed his eyes for a second.

"No more pain. I dream of my children..."

"That is good. You will go home now. These kind people will make sure you get home."

Kraf turned his face to look at Kathryn.

"Is she...?"

Chakotay gave a little smile. Kathryn wondered absently how often Chakotay had smiled or laughed in the last three years. His face looked stiff; he had not exercised those muscles in a long time.

"This is my wife, Kathryn Janeway, Kraf. She found us..."

"Your husband," Kraf started, his voice stilted, "is a very good man. He saved us."

"He is a good man. The best." She thrust her hand in Chakotay's; he gripped it tightly.

"Where is Mirah?"

"She has been transported to Commander Bel's vessel. She is to be taken to Megiddo to stand trial for Raël's murder."

"Then it is good. I never want to see her again."

This time Kathryn raised her hand to Chakotay's temple. Very gently she removed the enhancer and dropped it to the ground. His hand came up and covered hers.

"You may not have to. Mirah will stand trial on Megiddo. Don't worry, Chakotay. We're going home."

Chakotay smiled, a shared memory of a time on Voyager when he had said the same words to her. "We're going home, you understand?"

"Home. Sounds good to me."

She had been prepared for the prisoners' venture outside the confines of the mountain caverns. Chakotay had been given a visor to protect his eyes from the glaring sunshine. He had uttered a little cry the moment they came outside and held on to her.

"Where is this planet, Kathryn?" he asked, holding her hand, for he stumbled despite the visor he was wearing.

"It's called Largat. It's a D-class planet in sector 493 of the Gamma Quadrant. It has a binary system..."

Kathryn held her breath, waiting for Chakotay's response.

"I was on Elora... I've been transported over fifty sectors..." he said reflectively, as they walked towards the shuttle. Kathryn had overseen the transport of the released prisoners to the five Kelsoan vessels. Chakotay's artworks had already been beamed to the shuttle.

"Quite a distance for a telepath to transport any person," she replied.

"Yet she still needed technology to keep us in chains. It - it wasn't easy."

"I understand. We will go to Megiddo first, to meet Raël's parents - "

"You've met them?"

"They were very saddened at their son's death, but I promised I would stop by on my return. I am sure they would like to meet you. You can tell them more..."

"I was with him constantly during his final days, Kathryn. There were no medical facilities and Raël was already weak. He found the displacement too difficult."

Kathryn stopped when Chakotay stumbled again. "We can beam to the shuttle," she suggested, concerned. Even through the visor the glaring sun was too much for him. She shook her head. It was going to take a while before he would adjust fully to bright sunlight.

"No...I want to walk. I need the exercise," he quipped. But it was true. Although he looked emaciated, he was also not fit. "Come here...let me hold you again. I need to feel that you're very close to me..." She walked into his embrace, sighing at the pleasure of it.

"I missed you so much, Chakotay... I was asked to give you up for dead..."

"Standard Starfleet procedure. I thought about it a lot..."

When they could see the shuttle after they rounded a jutting rock, Kathryn hastened her step, then cursed inwardly as Chakotay struggled to keep up with her. She took his hand.

"Come, it will be easier if I just keep on holding your hand," she said.

He nodded, grasping her hand like a blind person. When they reached the shuttle, the hatch opened. Kathryn smiled. Alberon was a quick learner. He smiled as he peeped at the entrance and waited for them to walk up the small ramp.

"Alberon, I want you to meet Captain Chakotay."

Chakotay removed the visor, and gave a sigh as he blinked several times. Kathryn thought how he had become used to darkness. Alberon greeted Chakotay, who nodded in acceptance.

"I do not have a bond mate as yet, Captain Chakotay, but I will not rest until I find one as good as Admiral Janeway. She was guided to you by her love for you, that we can see clearly, shining from her eyes..."

Alberon smiled as he said the words and Chakotay, Kathryn could see, basked in the compliment.

"Alberon, I must thank you for what you have done."

"It has been my pleasure. Now, I must take my leave."

Alberon hit his fist against his chest and Kathryn could swear that he clicked his heels. Kathryn moved to the controls while Alberon stood on the small transporter pad.

"Ready?" Alberon nodded. Seconds later, he was gone.

Kathryn turned to Chakotay. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off her. He opened his arms and she threw herself against him bursting into sobs.

"Shhh... Don't cry, my love. We're together now. Your love for me was so strong that it brought you here. I called you, didn't you know?"

But she couldn't seem to calm; Chakotay's words were reassuring and comforting, yet not enough to stop her tears from flowing.

"I missed you... You don't know how much. It's been so long," she said, her words muffled as she pressed into his chest.

She marveled that he could wait so patiently until her tears stopped. Yet, he stood holding her close, at times softly whispering words of comfort to her. She wondered absently who was stronger. She had come to rescue him, but in those moments, Chakotay was her saviour, offering solace. She thought of the years she had been without him, of the first months when she had been frantic when they couldn't find him, the bitter longing. She thought of his smile, the way his eyes lit up when they had their quiet moments, and she paused in her work to look at him. She thought how, after two years she had been told to accept that he was dead, because he was declared officially dead. She thought, in those moments, how she had refused to believe that he'd died, that he was somewhere in the universe thinking of her, dreaming of her.

Later, she made him sit next to her in the co-pilot's seat to initiate the start-up sequence. They were quiet as the shuttle lifted off and headed for the Alpha Quadrant. The security grid that surrounded the barren planet was no longer there. With the destruction of the control centre, there wouldn't be one for a long time. For a long time neither of them spoke, preoccupied with their thoughts.

"Kathryn..."

"Yes...?"

"I wasted three years of my life."

For a second, she was overpowered by blind anger. Sighing, she controlled her emotion, trying to sound as level as she could when she gave him a sideways glance.

"As far as Starfleet and your career are concerned. You haven't wasted three years of your life, Chakotay. You lost three years, okay? You lost three years, but honey, they were years in which you were productive. If it weren't for your fabulous, perfect and flawless stone flower, I might never have found you."

"It was flawed, Kathryn. I deliberate flawed it..."

"I know, but it's perfectly flawed," she countered.

"I understand. Now, will you tell me what the message was I engraved on the flower?"

_You will not have to walk alone _

_when once you see the flower of stone... _

She knew every word of every cryptic message by heart. The words just rolled off her tongue. They were engraved permanently on her brain as the creation of Chakotay. Did he even know how, through his adversity, he had sought to express himself not in the perfection of art and beauty, but the evocation of beauty in the power of the word? Just as powerful as the stoneflowers were as carriers of hidden messages, so were Chakotay's words, an art he had not known he was capable of. He wasn't going to believe her, she thought with some wonder. He had already been too sceptical at his ability to be a great sculptor. He had memorised one of the obscurest poems in the Federation database, but because it expressed all that he felt for her, it was important for him to commit that one to memory.

"The words are...beautiful..." he said softly.

"They were not the only words," she replied. He looked at her, surprised at her revelation.

"Tell me," he said.

She sighed. Chakotay's eyes were drooping; he was exhausted. He had not needed much medical attention after all. His total exhaustion gave the impression of illness. She initiated autopilot, rose from the command chair and took his hand.

"You must sleep. Come..."

He acquiesced. She was not surprised, considering his weakened state. He had frowned heavily once and she had looked up startled. Why hadn't she seen how he was perspiring? He had then taken a cloth from his pocket to dab brow. He hadn't lied about the residual pain. She knelt beside the bunk, holding his hand.

"What were the other words?" he asked sleepily.

_The rose of peace I made for you_

_where Empress Mirah rules a few _

She spoke softly, soothingly. Then,

_"In darkest nights I think of you, _

_the day brings pain in added hue" _

"I learned to train my thoughts... Sometimes, during the day when the enhancers were on, I'd think of you. Sometimes I passed out..."

"Shhh...it's over now, Chakotay," she said, smiling a little. "Now you can think of me every night and every day..."

He pulled her close and she leaned to kiss him. His lips were warm under hers, a stirring of their old passion just under the surface. Her fingers skimmed his tattoo, traced its outlines, then finally rested tenderly on his lips. Chakotay's eyes closed at the touch.

"I'm going home," he murmured, the words already slurred as he battled sleep.

"Yes...we're going home, Chakotay."

TBC Ch 8


	8. Chapter 8

Finale

A month later...

"We should come here again, Kathryn," Chakotay said, as they walked up a short path to the top of the hill. "Megiddo is beautiful. No wonder Raël missed it so much..."

Kathryn, a little breathless as she reached the top, stood next to him and looked over the undulating countryside. "His parents are wonderful, very kind and dignified in their grief," she replied, not looking at him. "They really appreciated that you could tell them so much more of their son. Raël was very talented."

"I know. I don't think there was a man or woman among us who didn't realise that their desires were merely wishful thinking. I - I know that I've always wanted to be better at what I could do with my art, but Kathryn, it was never an obsession."

"It wasn't, Chakotay. But I think too, that you had to come to the understanding that no creative works should be hidden or..."

"Destroyed?"

"Yes. You have all lost the enhanced abilities but even that may have been something Mirah only made you think was additional when it wasn't. You were always able to make that stoneflower you sent me. Only, you never believed wholeheartedly that you could create a work of art which could transcend the extraordinary."

She could see Chakotay weighing her words. What Mirah did was create the illusion that they were gifted when they already had the ability.

"It's belief, and believing in yourself..."

Chakotay glanced at her and smiled. "You won't be disappointed if I don't work on one for at least a year?" he asked.

She wouldn't be, but as she looked at her husband, Kathryn wondered if Chakotay was aware of how his eyes glowed, how they exuded the old, inner excitement when a new idea grabbed him. He could be designing a stone flower next week, or he could be working on a brilliant new evasive maneuver. It was the same. He was creative, and whatever area of his work demanded it, that would receive the full measure of his creativity.

"No...no," she replied. "I won't be disappointed."

She heard him give a sigh of contentment. He pulled her closer and they sat down on the grassy knoll, looking over the vista of the first city of Megiddo in the distance. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. It was a gesture of assurance. Just below them, a _shebre _scurried across, vanishing so quickly that Kathryn blinked and wondered if she'd actually seen the furry animal. They really were like Earth's mongoose, she thought.

Chakotay remained quiet, his gaze fixed at a point in the distance. He looked deeply reflective. She gave a mental shrug. He'd fallen into periods of contemplation in the last month and she left him alone then. She could see how he resented the intrusion by the way he either didn't acknowledge the light peck on the cheek she gave him, or the way he twisted his face or flinched when she touched his shoulder. After that she left him alone, and went about her tasks as if nothing happened, keeping a semblance of normalcy in the confines of the shuttle. Later, after many hours, even days had passed, he would tell her about it and apologise for shutting her out. Then he'd hold her close to him, murmuring into her hair how he loved her and how he missed her. She understood him, understood that he had been through a traumatic trial where the very thought of home and family brought him pain. He told her how he had braved the challenge during the day when he allowed memories of her and their home to swamp him, although the process left him unconscious on a few occasions.

She had seen some of the works of the other artists, especially Amrah's clay figures. She had seen Amrah's children as if they were alive, the sorrow in their faces so realistic that she had wanted to weep at their loss. Amrah had been punished many times and it was Chakotay who had told her, in deeply compassionate tones, how he had helped Amrah recover time after time. Amrah, as well as all the others who were on the Kelso ships, had made contact with her and Chakotay to thank them. The last time she had seen Amrah, the woman had told her that getting used to freedom was not easy. The conditioning had been harsh, but she was adjusting.

Chakotay had to adjust, and that was proving more complex than she had anticipated. He never kept anything from her though, and she was thankful that he didn't bottle up whatever ailed him. Then they'd talk earnestly, sometimes 'til the early hours of the morning.

Judging by the rate he was recovering, she wondered how the other artists were doing now. Most of them had reached their homeworlds already. If Chakotay was still struggling with the nature of his incarceration, she thought that they couldn't be doing any better either. Amrah's admission was proof of that. But like Chakotay, they were with their people, and there could be no better healer than the love and support of family.

The first three days of their journey back, Chakotay slept almost round the clock. If she had thought that they could seal their love with lovemaking immediately, it was aborted when she saw how he needed sleep more than he needed to make love to her. She grinned to herself. She remembered she was still talking to him when he fell asleep. The time would come when they'd make love. She had been patient before and she could be again. They had had such a precious short period of intimacy after their return to Earth before he went missing. The three day marathon sleep, during which Chakotay woke only in spurts, staggering to the bathroom and back, did him a world of good.

She remembered the fourth night with tenderness, a smile forming on her lips as the memories rushed to her. Chakotay had waited for her to engage autopilot, then wrapped her in his arms.

"Kathryn, there are two bunks here on opposite sides, fixed tightly against the bulkheads..." He murmured the words softly, her ears tingling from his breath. She arched her neck, stifling a little moan as his lips trailed against her skin. Her whole body tingled at the touch. She had wondered about the narrow bunks herself when she entertained thoughts of sharing a bed with Chakotay. But Chakotay was inventive, and she was going to allow him to come up with a novel idea.

"There wasn't much that stopped us before," she whispered huskily.

"I think the conning station needs protection from us."

Kathryn pictured herself writhing under him on top or against the conn. She negated the idea, mentally agreeing with him. She had turned in his arms, groaning as she melted into him, unable to function normally. She had been without his burning touches for more than three years. Her body was going into overdrive as he pressed her close. She gave small gasps as Chakotay nipped her ear. She tried to move away from the searching lips, wanting only a moment to think, but her head was spinning madly. She was giddy and Chakotay was urgently hunting her skin with a moist, heated tongue and burning lips..

"We can make love here..." she gasped as his hand roved over her body. He paused briefly as she indicated the floor.

"Not the bare floor. We need a bed, Kathryn. Any suggestions?" he countered. Her knees were weak as she sank down. Chakotay went down with her, bracing her against him while they were on their knees, dropping light kisses on her closed eyelids. Her mind was whirling. She didn't want to think.

"No... No ideas. You think," she ordered him. The next moment he released her so suddenly that he had to grab her again when she keeled over. He lifted her and made her sit on one of the bunks. Then he went to the replicator. He was there for a few minutes, his orders given softly so that she hardly heard what he said. She had been too preoccupied anyway by the slow removal of her clothes and the anticipation of their first lovemaking in more than three years. When Chakotay turned to face her, she enjoyed his surprised, but silent appraisal.

"What's that?" she asked, frowning as she saw a blue square object in his hands.

"You'll know soon enough," he drawled. "Patience, sweetheart. I mean to make love with my wife in style..."

Kathryn smiled again at the memory of that night. They'd slept on the bright blue inflatable mattress ever since. Just let the air out in the morning, then inflate it when they were ready for bed in the evenings. It had been a good month, despite Chakotay's lapses into deep reverie. Some nights he had been desperate, his lovemaking urgent and wild, but she had met him with her own needs, showing him that she , too, had been hungry for three years. Then they'd fall into one another's arms, exhausted.

They took turns piloting the Oregon, Chakotay doing Gamma shift. During the day while she was at the helm, Chakotay studied all the new developments of the last three years. Advancements had been made in all aspects of Federation technology, shipbuilding, and new treaties concluded with formerly hostile worlds. Chakotay had given her a wide grin when he tried on his uniform, which she had prepared while still on the USS Pearston. She had been highly optimistic that she would find him.

Chakotay soaked in the new data. Most times he would be at it for hours and there would be soft music playing, which he found soothing. He had raged the first day when he started catching up on lost years, and she had been troubled by the intensity of it.

He had banged his palms against the console, cursing in frustration. She had jumped up from the conn and rushed to his side.

"I've lost so much...so much!" he burst out. "I can't get in everything!"

"Chakotay..." Her voice had been firm. "You don't have to get in everything at once. You have time. Take it easy. You know you can do it in chunks. Right now, you're running through the database haphazardly..."

His eyes had been wild when he bit back heatedly, "Do you know what it is like to have no books? Nothing... Nothing to read, to sharpen my mind, to..." She had grabbed the sides of his head, and tried to calm him by forcing him to look her in the eyes, to listen to her.

"I know, honey. Believe me, I know... You were in darkness - "

"No poetry. Except one or two I memorised before everything went black..."

"Chakotay - "

"Nothing! We were all dead..."

"No, you were not. You created the most beautiful sculptures in the universe. Even when you were in darkness, you created light."

He stared at her with wild eyes. His breathing was ragged as slowly the anger seeped from him, and the wildness left his eyes. He would continue then, devising a system by which he studied data in a more methodical manner, by subject, by theme. At night Chakotay read books or poetry at his leisure. He still had a way to go, but now he had reined in his impatience. One evening he looked up sharply when the soft strains of two violins filled the shuttle.

"Bach's Concerto for Double Violins..." he said softly. When she looked at him, surprised, he added, "I played it often on the Serengeti..."

"It's beautiful, isn't it? You know it's one of my favourites," she replied.

"Yes, I remember the first time I heard it and you told me it reminded you of us..."

"I did..."

She had been so glad that his memories were untarnished by his three year absence. Chakotay had worked steadily through the database literature, making a mini-catalogue of books he wanted to read.

"I found something," Chakotay said one day. His voice was animated.

"You sound excited. What is it?".

"Just listen, will you? It's a sonnet I just found - "

"The one by Giacomo Leopardi?"

"No. I know that one by heart. This is something that suits Bach's Concerto for Double Violins which you said - "

"Reminds me of us."

"Aye. Listen..." A few seconds later, after she had engaged autopilot, she turned the chair to face him while he read her the poem. His voice was soft, reverent, deep and melodious as he began to read...

_In perfect timbre, velvet soft the bows  
did praise the strings in rarest counterpoint,  
the melody so beautiful that God  
himself with mercy sometimes could anoint  
the two; while thin and high the first did climb  
the spiral stair to heaven; touched sublime  
with pride the second did in earthly tones  
remind the first that harmony in prime  
surround exists and only then survives  
the onslaught of a discordant chord  
designéd so to sack the balance struck  
and fragile frets collapse but painfully restored  
While heaven's music sounded forth, the knell  
alarmed and braved the arrows sent from hell._

It was so pertinent to their lives, their relationship and marriage that she wanted to cry. Her eyes did in fact fill with tears, but it was his voice that added depth to the import of the words.

"It's very beautiful."

"Written by...anonymous... Would you believe it..."

That night they had made passionate love on their air bed. After that, Chakotay had been more systematic in his studies, not allowing himself to become stressed at the backlog.

Strangely, he hadn't mentioned or looked at all at his art works in the last month. All the pieces were packed carefully and stored. It was as if Chakotay was no longer interested in them. But she knew him, and knew that he needed the distance, seeing the stone flowers as reminders of his ordeal and not as expressions of his very soul. The time would come that he'd look at them with pride. She was patient and she believed he was too. It was just time he needed.

Today was their last day on Megiddo and as Chakotay desired, they would come back here for vacation. It was a good place to be, full of silences and peace, with so many possibilities to ply and expand his craft.

He was no longer wearing the visor. After his marathon sleeping session during which he only woke sporadically, she had found an M-class planet where they could spend a couple of days. He had to adjust to sunlight and with the planet's atmosphere mimicking Earth's and its weather patterns pretty much that of Elora, they had landed on Moravia. Realising that all the prisoners would probably need protection, she had devised the visors for them. Chakotay had worn the visor the entire first day. He had been good-natured about it, not seeing it as an encumbrance.

"After all, Geordi la Forge has to wear his all the time."

"This one can be adjusted. You'll soon throw it away..."

"Tomorrow, I'll do it."

He had been a little terse and she knew it was his frustration at not being able to see normally in bright light.

"Only in small increments," she cautioned. He had pursed his lips, then sighed as he battled to control himself. On a sigh he had pulled her into his arms and held her close to him.

"It's hard to be patient," he murmured into her hair.

But he had tried and he celebrated the first day without the visor by kissing her soundly and demanding they make love immediately.

"Here, in the plaza?"

"Um, well, I suppose the house will have to do."

"And it has an open roof deck," she suggested.

"Perfect. Love in the open under a glaring sun. Remind me to build us an ancient Greek abode..."

It had been a perfect two days on Moravia. Although Chakotay sometimes became melancholic and almost sick, he had recovered quickly and they'd spend the evening just talking.

"Hey..."

Kathryn blinked, realised that Chakotay had been staring at her probably for several minutes.

"Sorry."

"Don't be, Kathryn. I've been a little detached. It will get better, I swear."

She rested her head against him and he took her hand in his and gripped it tightly.

"We leave tomorrow. Mirah's trial is tomorrow..."

Chakotay took a deep breath. It was the last hurdle. He would have to look again at the woman who had kept him from everything he loved. But Raël's parents needed closure, and they needed to see that justice was served. Mirah was from a planet at the outer reaches of the quadrant. It had been a revelation after the Kelsoans had launched an inquiry. Her people wanted nothing to do with her. She had been guilty of abducting people on two occasions before and had brought her people into disrepute.

Whatever the outcome, whatever they both felt about capital punishment, the law of Megiddo had to be upheld. Chakotay must have thought about it. Since early in the morning he had been quiet, knowing that he had to face Empress Mirah again. But it was a barrier he had to cross.

"I just want to get home, Kathryn. To Earth and to Indiana and to you."

"Magnus's ship, the Pearston will be in the Lorep System - "

"Magnus? Magnus Rollins, formerly of Voyager?"

"Got deservedly promoted to Lieutenant-Commander, then Captain. He was commissioned to command the USS Pearston. "

"We have to give the shuttle back to him?" Chakotay asked, a twinkle in his eyes as he helped her up and they made their way slowly down the slope.

"We get to keep our bed."

She looked up into his smiling face, thrilled beyond measure to see the shadows gone. She pressed into him.

"I love you, Chakotay."

"Thank you, Kathryn. It's that love that kept me alive. Now we can think about starting our own little family." She stopped in her tracks as Chakotay stared at her, frowning. The last time they had hinted about children and babies had been the night before he left for the Serengeti. Chakotay's face grew pale. He had wanted to wait then. Now he looked worried. "What's wrong, Kathryn?" he asked, sounding afraid.

She took his hand and guided him to her stomach. A light dawned in his eyes.

"We've already started, Chakotay."

THE END

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

**The sonnets:**

"The infinite" was written by 19th century poet Giacomo Leopardi

"Concerto for double violins" was written by "vanhunks".

**Some factoids about names:**

I chose the name Megiddo, a Bible city. "One of the cities to which Solomon assigned forced labour." It was my husband who pointed out the Greek derivative for the name of this city: _har megiddon_ - Armageddon.

I chose "Magnus" for Lieutenant Rollins. I can't think of him by any other name. He's been Magnus since my first fanfic written in 1998.

Raël - In memory of Raël Mercuur, one of the finest and most talented young stage actors in Cape Town. Died in a motor vehicle accident.

"Nu'ara" - A derivative from the Arabic "Nur" which means "light".

"Mirah", "Amrah" - Little girl across the road is called "Amirah".

"Kelso" - Designer label for clothing in Cape Town.

"Danila" - The name of the character in the orginal fairytale, "The Stone Flower".

"Lieutenant-Commander "Hort" - working in a botanical facility, the shortened name we give to "horticulturists".


End file.
